9781315771335

ELITE SCHOOLS
Geography matters to elite schools—to how they function and flourish, to how
they locate themselves and their Others. Like their privileged clientele they use
geography as a resource to elevate themselves. They mark, and market, place.
This collection, as a whole, reads elite schools through a spatial lens. It offers fresh
lines of inquiry to the ‘new sociology of elite schools’. Collectively the authors
examine elite schools and systems in different parts of the world. They highlight
the ways that these schools, and their clients, operate within diverse local,
national, regional, and global contexts in order to shape their own and their
clients’ privilege and prestige. The collection also points to the uses of the
transnational as a resource via the International Baccalaureate, study tours, and
the discourses of global citizenship. Building on research about social class,
meritocracy, privilege, and power in education, it offers inventive critical lenses
and insights particularly from the ‘Global South’. As such it is an intervention in
global power/knowledge geographies.
Aaron Koh is Associate Professor of Literacy and English Education at Griffith

University, Australia.
Jane Kenway is Professorial Fellow with the Australian Research Council,

Professor of Education at Monash University, and an elected Fellow of the
Academy of Social Sciences, Australia.
Education in Global Context
Series Editor: Lois Weis
Social Class and Education

Global Perspectives
Edited by Lois Weis and Nadine Dolby
Confucius and Crisis in American Universities

By Amy Stambach
Globalizing Educational Accountabilities

By Bob Lingard, Wayne Martino, Goli Rezai-Rashti, and Sam Sellar
Elite Schools
Multiple Geographies of Privilege
Edited by Aaron Koh and Jane Kenway
ELITE SCHOOLS
Multiple Geographies of Privilege
Edited by Aaron Koh and Jane Kenway

First published 2016
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Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Names: Koh, Aaron, 1967- editor. | Kenway, Jane, editor.
Title: Elite schools : multiple geographies of privilege / edited by Aaron Koh and Jane Kenway.
Description: New York : Routledge, [2016] | Series: Education in global context | Includes
bibliographical references and index.
Identifiers: LCCN 2015034961| ISBN 9781138779402 (hardback) | ISBN 9781138779419 (pbk.)
| ISBN 9781315771335 (e-book)
Subjects: LCSH: Elite (Social sciences)--Education. | Upper class--Education. | Boarding schools.
| Education--Social aspects--Cross-cultural studies.
Classification: LCC LC4931 .E55 2016 | DDC 373.22/2--dc23LC record available at http://lccn.
loc.gov/2015034961
ISBN: 978-1-138-77940-2 (hbk)

ISBN: 978-1-138-77941-9 (pbk)
ISBN: 978-1-315-77133-5 (ebk)
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by Saxon Graphics Ltd, Derby
CONTENTS
Series Editor’s Overviewix

Acknowledgements xi
Introduction: Reading the Dynamics of Educational Privilege

Through a Spatial Lens 1
Aaron Koh and Jane Kenway
1 Becoming the Man: Redefining Asian Masculinity in an

Elite Boarding School 18
Wee Loon Yeo
2 Capitalising on Well-Roundedness: Chinese Students’

Cultural Mediations in an Elite Australian School 33
Yujia Wang
3 The Emergence of Elite International Baccalaureate

Diploma Programme Schools in China: A
‘Skyboxification’ Perspective 50
Moosung Lee, Ewan Wright, and Allan Walker
vi Contents
4 Elite Schoolboys Becoming Global Citizens: Examining

the Practice of Habitus 70
Chin Ee Loh
5 The Joy of Privilege: Elite Private School Online

Promotions and the Promise of Happiness 87
Christopher Drew, Kristina Gottschall, Natasha Wardman,
and Sue Saltmarsh
6 Old Boy Networks: The Relationship Between Elite

Schooling, Social Capital, and Positions of Power in
British Society 101
Shane Watters
7 Exclusive Consumers: The Discourse of Privilege in Elite

Indian School Websites 122
Radha Iyer
8 The Insiders: Changing Forms of Reproduction

in Education 139
Hugues Draelants
9 Can Geographies of Privilege and Oppression Combine?:

Elite Education in Northern Portugal 157
Eunice Macedo and Helena C. Araújo
10 “We Are Not Elite Schools”: Studying the Symbolic

Capital of Swiss Boarding Schools 171
Caroline Bertron
11 Tourism, Educational Travel, and Transnational Capital:

From the Grand Tour to the ‘Year Abroad’ among
Sciences Po-Paris Students 188
Bertrand Réau
Contents vii
12 Schools and Families: School Choice and Formation of

Elites in Present-Day Argentina 202
Sandra Ziegler
13 The Economy of Eliteness: Consuming Educational

Advantage217
Howard Prosser
Contributors 231
Index 235
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SERIES EDITOR’S OVERVIEW
The series on Education in Global Context takes seriously the transnational

migration of commerce, capital, knowledge, and peoples, and the implications of
such for education and social structure. Globalization—in education, as in the
world economy and patterns of human migration—affects all of us. The
increasingly globalized and knowledge-based economy renders the linkages
between education and social and economic outcomes empirically ‘up for grabs’
in a wide range of nations. Books in this series underscore the consequences of
this ‘new global’ while stressing the importance and effects of a paradigmatic shift
in our understanding of schooling and social/economic arrangements.
The changing nature of transnational migration patterns holds significant
implications for this broad intellectual project. In a context where migrants—
here defined as immigrants across class, race/ethnic, and religious background;
refugees who comprise a range of national origins; and international students who
similarly hail from a wide range of ‘sending nations’—are positioned and work to
reposition themselves inside new global circumstances, we can expect notable
change in the nature of and engagement with knowledge, educational practices,
and outcomes across the globe. This works to alter social structural arrangements
both within and between nations.
Lois Weis
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Jane expresses her deep appreciation to the Australian Research Council and to
Monash University for the support provided to her for the five-year duration of
the Elite schools in globalising circumstances: a multi-sited global ethnography research
project. She also acknowledges with gratitude the contributions to her thinking
made by the research team and the schools around the world in which the
research for the project was conducted. As always, Lindsay Fitzclarence and
Vashti Kenway have been her greatest inspiration and support.
Aaron is grateful to the Hong Kong Institute of Education and National
Institute of Education for supporting his involvement in the five-year Elite schools
in globalising circumstances: a multi-sited global ethnography research project. He also
acknowledges the enduring friendship, love and unflinching support of George
Chen, Jo-Marion Ng, and Victoria Carrington.
Finally, we acknowledge the team of reviewers we called on to review the
chapters in this book. We thank them for taking their precious time to give
feedback on the chapters. This edited collection has benefited from their generous
critique.
INTRODUCTION
Reading the Dynamics of Educational Privilege
Through a Spatial Lens
Aaron Koh and Jane Kenway
Elite schools are contentious institutions and elicit intense debate. They are seen
to either represent schooling’s gold standard and to produce highly educated
luminaries who rightfully take their places at the apogee of all the institutions that
matter. Or they are seen as socially isolated, luxury enclaves that breed and feed
privilege and power and entrenched educational and social inequality and
division. No matter where one stands in relation to such debates it is difficult to
disassociate ‘privilege’ from elite schools. To ask in what ways elite schools are
privileged invariably attracts predictable replies. They express privilege, it is
frequently argued, through their high fees and thus their wealthy clientele, the
grandeur of their grounds and buildings, their state-of-the-art learning facilities,
their curricula and extracurricular range, their legions of famous alumni, and their
powerful connections to elite universities and other significant institutions. And
the list goes on especially when the focus shifts beyond such material and symbolic
facets of privilege; what Daloz (2010, p. 94) calls “vicarious display”. For then we
get into the subtleties that researchers have been teasing out for some time. They
show, not just how privilege is material and materialised, but how it is produced
through an intricate array of practices, which adjust, over time, to suit changing
economic, socio-cultural, and geo-political circumstances.
Even so, privilege is a slippery term often mobilised to speak to all sorts of
individual and group advantage. The notion of privilege has been well explored
and debated as Adam Howard, Aimee Polimeno and Brianne Wheeler (2014)
illustrate in a useful overview of the literature where they link discussions of class
privilege to other forms. They go on to show how affluent young people variously
experience and express their privilege and the identity work involved. Interestingly
quite a number of recent publications on elite schools have made the concept
‘privilege’ their leitmotif. Take another example. Utilising the concepts, “affect”
2 Aaron Koh and Jane Kenway
and “agency”, Claire Maxwell and Peter Aggleton (2013) argue that privilege is
a nested triadic relationship where “feelings and affect emerge as central to an
understanding of the relation between agency and privilege” (p. 4). Affect and
agency are seen to animate the spaces and discourses of privilege. Further, the
triadic relationship between ‘privilege’, ‘affect’ and ‘agency’ are brought into an
implicit conversation with Bourdieu’s ‘capitals’.
Along with many others we too are interested in the nature of privilege with
regard to elite schools, its diverse forms, how it is gained, on what grounds and
in whose particular interests. But further, looking behind the face of privilege
leads to inquiries about its asymmetrical expression amongst the privileged
themselves—how it is racialised, gendered, sexualised, and spatialised, for
example. But why produce another book on elite schools and privilege? Is there
anything more to be said? As we, and others, have been arguing for some time,
there certainly is—not least around questions of space, time, materiality and politics
and their entangled expressions. Certainly, the privilege that elite schools reflect
and help to bring into effect has many such entanglements. Our overall focus in
this collection is specifically on their multiple geographies—on the ways in which
their privilege arises in different spaces and places and on various scales, occurs in
different modalities, involves diverse mobilities, and arises in relation to assorted
politics. A quick example illustrates such spatial thinking.
A recent article, published in the Singapore Straits Times, featured Raffles
Institution, an elite independent school in Singapore known to produce many of
the country’s leaders. Titled “Raffles Institution now a ‘middle-class’ school, says
principal” (Teng, 2015), it featured the principal’s speech delivered on the
school’s 192nd Founders’ Day. What appeared as an ordinary speech confined to
an important occasion of the school’s calendar suddenly became newsworthy and
widely circulated on newsfeed in social media. Why? The principal touched a
raw nerve in Singapore. Currently, elitism is a hot-button issue facing the school
and the wider Singaporean polity. In the article, Mr Chan, the principal, is quoted
as saying that “meritocracy in Singapore is working less well” and that “a long
period of conditioning means that we often fail to see elitism even when it is
staring at us in the face”. He also admitted that the school “now largely caters to
the affluent” and that taking pride in the school’s many achievements and
accolades “risk making it insular”. Subsequently, the print press and then other
social media amplified further critiques of the politics and spatiality of privilege.
They pointed to the ‘Bukit Timah belt’—an affluent area consisting of luxury
housing where elite schools are concentrated thus also highlighting spatial
disparities in Singapore’s education system. Interestingly, the links between elite
schools in Singapore, class, racial and spatial advantage and meritocracy are all
offered as ‘new’ news.
But of course such links are not ‘new’ news. In all the countries where research
on elite schools has been conducted, such research has consistently revealed that
these schools underwrite, and sometimes help to rewrite, class, race and gender
Introduction 3
privilege and the associated relationships of power. The study by Lois Weis,
Kristin Cipollone, and Heather Jenkins (2014) of schools in the USA is a
particularly compelling example of the family intensities involved. They
characterise the competition among parents vying for their child’s admission to
elite universities in the USA as “class warfare”. What is relatively new, however,
is that this is considered newsworthy in Singapore as a distinctive space.
Space always matters politically and analytically. An understanding of it is vital
for an adequate interpretation of these news items and, indeed, for interpreting
Mr Chan’s reasons for speaking out in the manner he did. Understanding the
space of the school and of the wider Singaporean polity is necessary. The latter
includes the quite recent rise of anti-elitist sentiments in this country and the
implications this has had for the policies of the governing People’s Action Party
(PAP). Until recently elite schools, like the Raffles Institution, gloried in their
high status. In post-colonial Singapore they were specifically supported by the
state to produce the new county’s, largely Chinese, leaders. This was made
explicit by the PAP and was largely accepted by the, usually compliant, people
for some considerable time. Not any more. As we argue elsewhere:
Recently the political field has become more contested. Increasingly the
PAP is seen as aloof, detached and as losing touch with people’s feelings
and sacrifices. The May 2011 General Elections had the worst ever PAP
result and was understood as a sign of its declining popularity. But its
political capital has not necessarily diminished as the PAP hegemon is
salvaging its political stranglehold post the 2011 election by addressing the
discontents expressed by Singaporeans (demonstrated, for example, by the
recent announcement of a 37% reduction in ministerial pay). Clearly, the
state nobility is carefully manoeuvring within the (political) ‘gaming space’.
(Kenway & Koh, 2013, p. 273)
This narrative about Singapore points to the links between the politics of privilege
and the intersecting geographies of the school, neighbourhood and state. As such
it also highlights the central theme of this collection, which is concerned with such
geographical intersectionalities, multiplicities, and mobilities and their relationship to elite
schools and to privilege in different parts of the world. Such knowledge is
important as it assists understandings of “what shapes the formation and maintenance
of these [privileged] groups across local, national and global spaces” as well as
“how class structures and practices are produced” (Maxwell, 2015, p. 15).
This raises matters of scale: of how analyses may involve extended or more
limited scales. They may focus on the up-close or the more-distant, or on how
the more-distant is expressed in, or constitutes, the up-close—or the reverse.
Whatever the case a geographical analysis of privilege and elite schools calls
attention to “the interaction of processes, structures and agents at different scales”
(Murray, 2006, p. 19; emphasis added). Johannah Fahey, Howard Prosser, and
Matthew Shaw (2015) invoke something of this spirit in their collection of papers
arising from a multi-sited global ethnography.
Studying multiple schools in multiple countries that share a common status

as elite schools means that we are able to consider a complex of ‘small
societies’ across the globe and the ways in which they sustain each other,
but also contemplate the ways in which these small societies are
interdependent with a world beyond the school gates: with their localities,
their regions and with contemporary globalization.
(p. 8)
As this intimates, elite schools operate within local/neighbourhood, national and

regional contexts and are also caught up in wider global forces.
Capitalism is one such global force (Harvey, 2014). In turn, its unfettered
escalation has meant that on a global scale wealth is increasingly concentrated in
the hands of a few, and that income inequality and the divide between the rich
and poor is widening within nation states as well as between states and regions.
For example, a recent OECD (2014) report aired concerns about the gross
inequalities associated with contemporary global economic arrangements. And, a
Credit Suisse study reported in the Guardian in 2014 shows that inequality is
accelerating with the richest 1% owning more than 48% of global wealth
(Treanor, 2014). Many similar studies point to the widening distances between
both the rich and the rest and the exceptionally rich and ordinarily rich. This is
the case within and between states and regions of the globe.
Such disparities between the rich and poor involve “contested geographies of
wealth, privilege and exclusion” (Pow, 2013, p. 64). One important example of
such contestation was the global mediatisation of the ‘Occupy Wall Street’
movement, whose slogan “We are the 99 percent” (that will no longer tolerate
the greed of the 1 per cent) referred to the colossal wealth disparity between the
rich and poor (Hay, 2013). This movement contributed to a heightened global
consciousness of the multi-scalar politics of wealth, power and avarice.
Elite schools are intertwined in these ‘contested geographies’. This is why the
overall body of research on elites and their education needs to be multi-scalar.
For as Stephen Ball (2015) argues it also needs to “‘get close’ to the work of social
reproduction and the performance of elite-ness within families and education
institutions” (p. 238). The essays collected here go some way towards advancing
this multi-scalar requirement although not so much the notion of ‘contested
geographies’ of privilege—a topic that requires much more attention.
But scale is not necessarily self-evident and standard approaches that nest
smaller scales within larger are not always apt. Sometimes adopting a global/
national logic can lead to restrictive either/or questions; for instance, do elite
schools form global or national elites? It is more fruitful to explore the ways that
elite schools are involved in various sorts of scale-making endeavours in the
Introduction 5
constitution of privilege and power. At certain times and in certain places they
may emphasise one scale more than another. For example, Rachel Brooks and
Johanna Waters’ (2015) study of the websites of certain English schools shows
how they mobilise meaning in relation to their “local community” as they project
themselves into the wider world. In contrast, in his discussion of ‘Asia rising’ Fazal
Rizvi (2015) shows how certain expensive schools are responding to this regional
phenomenon. In both cases neither a national nor a global imaginary is invoked.
Sensitivity to varied scales and their intersections is crucial if we are to fully
comprehend elite schools’ multi-scalar geographies of privilege. Yet as Jean and
John Comaroff (2007) observe, some scales are “awkward” and “difficult to
capture” (Coleman & von Hellermann, 2011, p. 4). How scale links to mobilities,
networks, de-territorialisation and virtual space is a matter for continued
discussion.
Take the example of virtual geography. Via their websites, elite schools have
a strong presence in virtual space. There is an obvious informational logic to this
as the schools’ websites are a major textual medium used to communicate the
schools’ corporate identity, values, educational philosophies, and commitment to
students’ development. But also the logic is economic. The competition for
students in the global elite schools market is driving them to deploy more and
more sophisticated advertising and branding techniques to attract potential clients
from beyond the usual national or local pool. Such texts belong to “(semiotic)
systems of representation” (Hall, 1997, p. 4), and are, of course, designed to
represent the school in the most positive light. The notion of ‘design’ suggests
that there is a preferred reading and thus, as such, those producing such texts
undertake careful ideological work. Clearly then there is no necessary one-to-
one correspondence between the schools’ virtual spaces and the lived spaces of
school life. But the scalar reach of such virtual spaces is only limited by the
availability of the necessary technology. The school becomes a virtual spectacle
that precedes and exceeds the school itself.
But, then, how might other concepts of ‘space’ be deployed to understand
elite schools and their work of helping to produce privilege? Space, too, is an
elusive and much debated concept. But once one acknowledges that spaces are
not neutral territorial entities, then one also has to recognise that spaces are
contested. As Lefebvre (1991 [1974]), and many number of his diverse followers
argue, space is negotiated, fought over, and produced over time. This clearly
leads to considerations of the processes concerned—of the ways in which
particular spaces are made and made to mean and to matter. It leads to questions
about the contests involved in the work of space making, mapping and
imagining—to questions about how the self and the Other are positioned within
and across space. Here space is understood relationally as involving “a myriad of
connections and reconnections, alignments and realignments and various
positionings in relations and diverse critical junctions” (Coleman & von
Hellermann, 2011, p. 13). But such apparent fluidity has its limits. Wendy Brown
(2014) talks about the ‘desire for walling’ of contemporary states as challenges to
their sovereignty mount. What she says about state walls might also be said about
the walls of elite schools. “Walls … emerge from and figure in discourses, they
become discursive statements themselves and they are crucial to the organization
of power in and through space” (2014, p. 74). Of utmost significance, she says, is
how walls are “perceived and experienced”.
Elite schools’ privilege, and that of their clients, is produced not just on
multiple scales but also in and through intersecting and multiple spaces. In terms
of their use of space they undertake space and boundary work to help them to
constitute elitist/dominant class imaginaries and use their elitism to help them
constitute space and boundaries (Prosser & Kenway, 2015; Shaw, 2014). Elite
schools’ walls, fences, gates, guards, security systems, entry rules and badges, and
reception desks are bound to be ‘perceived and experienced’ differently according
to one’s location in relation to them. But from a critical geography perspective
they represent these schools’ social closure and enclosure; their self-protection
and ‘other’ rejection. And, of course, the walls within elite schools also organise
power, of a different order, ‘in and though space’.
Obviously, then, space is not totally fluid or fixed. To Nigel Thrift (2003)
space
is the outcome of series of highly problematic temporary settlements that

divide and connect things up into different kinds of collectivities which are
slowly provided with the means which render them durable and sustainable.
(p. 95)
His notion of “temporary settlements” highlights the links between geography

and temporality. Space must be understood historically. But exploring the spatio-
temporal, or what Jon May and Thrift (2001) call ‘timespace’, also involves
considerations of such things as how time is lived, how it is part of the rhythms
and routines of the every-day, how it is distributed and represented in space and
place.
And what of elite schools’ time/space? They use time in various ways. For
example, they mobilise their traditions for reputational and promotional purposes.
Urgency and intensity govern the everyday rhythms of school life. But equally
the wealth of the schools’ clients allows them to harness time in, and for, their
own educational and other advancement in comparison to those who have
neither sufficient money nor time. As Bourdieu (1986, p. 246) explains “Capital
… takes time to accumulate … [and] is a force inscribed in the objectivity of
things so that everything is not equally possible or impossible”.
While elite schools certainly use time and space to represent themselves, they
primarily promote themselves as places. It is thus also necessary to also engage
them as such. But to do so involves the problem that the distinction between
space and place is not at all clear and involves further theoretical dispute. The key
Introduction 7
issue is if and how space and place might best be distinguished from each other.
Perhaps place is most readily understood as a particular type of space—one that is
named and framed, activated, experienced and embodied in specific ways.
Certainly place is often understood in small scale terms as more intimate,
immediate and close-up than other spaces—as involving the micro-political. This
has invited particular attention to its emotional, sensual and aesthetic geography.
However, Massey (1993) develops the notion of a “progressive sense of place” to
speak the spatial and the temporal. She argues that places can be understood as
“particular moments” in the “articulation of social relations which necessarily
have a spatial form” (1993, p. 60). Here, place is conceived as an inter-textual, or
compiled, spatial form constructed through social relations with other places and
objects. She sees place as porous. It involves links and interdependencies with
other places, spaces and scales. It includes intimate and more distant ‘power
geometries’ (Massey, 1993) together.
Elite schools are place-makers par excellence. They represent themselves to the
world as places of distinction wherein affluence and influence are normalised.
Landscaped gardens, extensive sports fields, architecture, busts, statues, icons,
pictures of famous alumni, emblems, trophies, shields, logos are all mattering
materials—in other words such materials are made to matter in particular ways.
They are displayed as symbols of success, of tradition, of taste; they invite
aspiration and emulation. But further, these schools represent themselves-to-
themselves as places of ‘community’, of the school ‘family’, and of attachment
and belonging in and over time. Those who populate them have long been
encouraged to adopt such a humanistic, romanticised and ‘apolitical’ place-based
perspective about their schools. And they have also been encouraged to adopt a
very specific ‘progressive sense of place’ (Massey, 1993) through which they
recognise that their schools, and thus they themselves, are connected to the other
places and people who belong, or have belonged, to elite school systems and
networks located nearby or in other national and global spaces. While these
schools are centrally concerned with their own ‘power geometries’ (Massey,
1993) and the spatial extension of affluence and influence, theirs is not a critical
sense of place as is Massey’s. A critical sense of place and elite schools invites the
sorts of analyses in the Fahey et al. (2015) collection which is evocatively called
In the Realm of the Senses: Social Aesthetics and the Sensory Dynamics of Privilege. The
chapters, vignettes, and photographic essays therein study privilege through the
senses pointing to the materiality of the “sensory structures” which bear the
stamp of privilege. A critical analysis of elite schools as places also requires a
relational analysis of place and of educational inequality. Take this example from
a discussion of elite schools in Geelong, Victoria, Australia.
The educational and social segregation involved in their [the students’]

school-based social cocooning mean that such students have little lived
sense of life in wider Australia, let alone life on the bottom rungs. Such
schools can be thought of as ‘purified spaces ... cleansed of variety and

difference ... tame, sanitized’. Missing from such schools is ‘The plurality
and multi-vocality of the life setting’ (Bauman, 2000, p. 99). This is a
problem because as adults, they [the students] will exert a disproportionate
influence over the lives of people right across the social spectrum.
(Kenway, 2013)
Our notion of multiple geographies of privilege helps to capture the intersectional

power dynamics of scale, space and place as they relate to elite schools. Plainly
then this notion does not simply refer to the fact that many countries are
represented in this collection, namely, Australia (Chapters 1, 2 and 5), China
(Chapter 3), Singapore (Chapter 4), UK (Chapter 6), India (Chapter 7), France
(Chapters 8 and 11), Portugal (Chapter 9), Switzerland (Chapter 10), and
Argentina (Chapters 12 and 13). This is not to say that national perspectives are
unimportant; understanding national education systems as a whole, historically
and currently, is crucial to an appreciation of how educational and class privilege
are claimed systemically. Further, taking a national perspective potentially invites
comparative analysis in relation to different national systems and historical periods
and also explorations of the conceptual resources that best enable such comparative
analysis. It potentially leads to differentiated understandings and multi-national
perspectives: potentially, but not necessarily.
Such studies also run the risk of ‘methodological nationalism’. This constructs
the socio-political in national or international terms and, in turn, draws attention
away from trans-nationalism, which Ong defines as “the condition of cultural
interconnectedness and mobility across space—which has been intensified under
late capitalism” (Ong, 1999, p. 4). This points to the important relationships
between scales, spaces, places and ‘scapes’. Appadurai’s (1996) notion of the
disjunctive scapes of cultural globalisation is helpful here. These are ethno-scapes,
media-scapes, ideo-scapes, techno-scapes, and finance-scapes and involve flows
of people, ideas and ideologies, images, and imaginations and the technologies
and money that facilitate and also drive them. Further, Kenway and Fahey (2010)
have developed the concept global emo-scapes to attend to the attendant flows of
emotions. As they are increasingly caught up in the global elite school market and
as they also increasingly seek to globalise their practices all such scapes become
ever more important to elite schools (Kenway & Fahey, 2014: Kenway, Fahey &
Koh, 2013).
The chapters in this collection are specifically not intended as case studies of
particular countries although, as individual chapters, some do not entirely escape
possible charges of ‘methodological nationalism’ (Amelina et al., 2012). However,
the collection as a whole, with its notion of multiple geographies of privilege as the
overriding framework, hopefully works against such possible readings. It speaks to
the fact that these different countries are plugged into the “uneven spatio-temporal
development of capitalism” (Harvey, 2006, p. 115). Certainly, one way in which
Introduction 9
such unevenness is expressed is nationally according to capitalism’s particular

connections to the geopolitics of such things as colonialism, post- and neo-
colonialism, as well as contemporary neoliberalism. Another way in which such
unevenness is expressed is regionally. Hence we have deliberately included a spread
of chapters from, what are often called, the ‘global North and South’—or the
minority (‘first’) world and the majority (‘third’) world. These are clearly problematic
terms but no less problematic than the others, which they often stand in for: ‘third
and first world’, ‘West and East’, ‘developed’, ‘developing’ and ‘underdeveloped’,
and so on. That said, despite the scalar span included here, the collection does not
try, or claim, to be representative or to offer a complete global coverage.
Our overall contention is that it matters where and when ‘privilege’ is played
out. Appadurai (2013) asserts that ‘histories make geographies’ but geographies
also make histories. The specific geo-politico history and cultural politics at work
in the national and regional space shape how privilege is articulated to elite
schools as places. Collectively the chapters show that privilege is constituted in
patterned but also diverse ways in such different spaces. It is relational and relative.
So too are elite schools which, while having some shared generic characteristics,
also differ. No blanket description is adequate. Overall, then, attention to multiple
geographies requires what Hall calls a “conjunctural analysis” (Hall, 2010). This
involves an analysis of a period during which “the different social, political,
economic and ideological contradictions that are at work in [a] society [that]
come together to give it a specific and distinctive shape” (Hall, 2010, p. 1). Such
an analysis is evident in the chapters gathered here. They show the specificities of
the scalar, spatial and place-based dynamics and politics of privilege and its close
companion—elite schooling.
As with all publications, this book is implicated in power/knowledge
geographies. Space and flow are highly relevant to elite education studies per se.
Global power/knowledge geographies are central to the field’s configuration. Let
us count the ways. First, most of the educational research, published in the
English language, has been about schools in England, the USA, Canada and
Australia, although over recent times, and at long last, this is changing as studies
from a diverse range of countries are now included in various English language
edited collections (Gunter, Apple & Hall, 2016; Maxwell & Aggleton, 2016; Ball,
van Zanten & Darchy-Koechlin, 2015; Kenway & McCarthy, 2014; Kenway &
Koh, 2015; Howard & Kenway, 2015). Even so, the Anglophone literature is
restricted in its overall purchase without access to that published in languages
other than English. Second, scholars from non-English speaking countries often
find that in order to gain a wider readership it helps if they publish in English
language outlets. But this is very demanding and requires considerable conceptual
and linguistic translation not to mention peer reviewer empathy as well as editorial
support. These are not always forthcoming.
Thirdly, as Raewyn Connell has demonstrated in Southern Theory (2007), the
flow of social science knowledge is often from the global North to the global
South, not the reverse, with those in the global South tending to feel the need to
adopt or adapt European or North American theory and those in the global
North largely disregarding studies and theories from the global South. This
pattern is evident in studies of elite schools. Dialogue between studies from
diverse locations, especially between studies in the global South, is occasional and
gestural and comparative studies, in the best sense of the term (Dale & Robertson,
2009), are rare. Fourth, questions arise as to whether the commonly deployed
conceptual resources from the USA or Europe adequately capture the nature of
privilege and elite educational institutions in other locations around the world
(Kenway & Koh, 2013). For example, the caste system in India is central to
analyses of power and privilege there (Ambedkar, 2014/1936) and cannot be
subsumed under class analysis, although there is a relationship between the two
particularly as India becomes ever more caught up in global capitalism.
This asymmetrical geo-politics of knowledge production have led Connell to
argue for the “global communication of knowledge” (Connell, 2007, p. xiii).
This invites other forms of cross-fertilisation, in short, dialogues that transcend
such power/knowledge geographies. A challenge for the field of elite education
studies, as a whole, is to respond to Connell’s invitation. Like other collections
that seek to be more globally inclusive, this collection only goes some small way
to addressing the issues involved. But, thinking through the lens of “multiple
geographies” of privilege helps to achieve two things. It invites readers not to
think about each chapter solely through the prism of the nation state from, or in
relation to, which it is written. Secondly, the collection as whole reveals that
while there are commonalities, there isn’t a unitary narrative to the (re)production
and expression of privilege and its politics. It shows that many modalities and
mobilities are involved, grounded in and by the rich texture of geo-specific
politico-histories. A feature of the ‘new sociology of elite education’ is its
attention to the intersections of class/race/gender and, to a lesser extent, ethnicity
and sexuality in, and in relation to, elite educational institutions. But this does not
go far enough. We need to properly historicise and spatialise such inter-
sectionality. In turn, this suggests that comparative analysis need not be restricted
to the national scale and could, for instance, involve comparisons between
different expressions of elite inter-sectionality in diverse locations.
Geographical Inter-Sectionalities, Multiplicities, and Mobilities

We now turn to the chapters and offer a taste of the manner in which each speaks
to the matters we have outlined thus far.
‘Western’ theory is tested by Wee Loon Yeo in Chapter 1. He studied a group
of ‘Asian’ boarders at St Andrew’s School—an elite school located in Australia.
This school understood itself in the tradition of the English/Australian ‘public
school’. Although the boarders were from diverse countries in Asia, they were
also all Chinese. These boarders were Yeo’s test-bed for theorising masculinity.
Introduction 11
Yeo argues that in response to the ‘hegemonic masculinity’ observed in St

Andrew’s school culture, the Asian boarders enacted, and indeed manufactured,
distinctive modes of Asian masculinity. To help him think this through, he
introduces the theory of ‘wen–wu’ Chinese masculinity to show how the Asian
boarders negotiated, contested and constructed alternative masculinities. The fact
that this Australian school culture actually produced a distinctive ‘Asian’
subjectivity complicates the links often made between place, identity and
masculinity. Yeo’s chapter draws attention to the ways that embedded geographical
masculine privilege was disrupted by the alternative space-based identities that
the boarders mobilised in order to re-articulate ‘privilege’ as an expression of elite
Chinese masculinities.
The links that are often made between cultural cosmopolitanism and the
global mobility of school students are problematised in Chapter 2 by Yujia Wang.
She considers Chinese international students studying in an elite school in
Australia. The theme of “well-roundedness” is the fulcrum of her analysis. As
opposed to the generalising claim that students on-the-move, internationally,
invariably develop cosmopolitan sensibilities, she argues for a more geographically
grounded understanding of identities on the move in the transnational space of
the global elite school market. The chapter shows how “Chinese-ness”, as an
identity marker, was disrupted in the contact zone of this very emplaced Australian
school. In so doing she considers the cultural logics, mediations, and power
dualities involved in these Chinese students’ identity making processes. These
involve, she argues, quite specific configurations of various geographical forces.
And it is such configurations that make the actualisation of cosmopolitanism
either possible or unlikely.
“Skyboxification” is a core concept mobilised by Moosung Lee, Ewan Wright,
and Allan Walker in Chapter 3. They mobilise this metaphor to describe the
increasing stratification of the Chinese schooling sector along with the growing
class polarisation of Chinese society. This includes the tendency of elites to
distance themselves from their host nation. They argue that the growing
popularity of the International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme (IBDP) in
international schools is linked to the politics of privilege in China. The provision
of IBDP in schools is seen to deepen the class divide in part because of the
homogenous profile and social isolation of students inside these schools. This,
they claim, limits the cultivation of “open mindedness” and “intercultural
understanding” that the IBDP learner profile endeavours to promote. They also
suggest that, for parents and students in the Asian region, academic success has
considerable priority over the IBDP learning profile that encourages students to
balance their studies with Creativity, Action, Service (CAS) courses. As such they
question whether the take-up of IBDP as the pinnacle of globally mobile
curriculum is even appropriate for Asian students and parents.
Ace Institution in Singapore is an IBDP school and an elite government school
with a long history associated with the Methodist church. In Chapter 4, Chin Ee
Loh explains that Ace created history in Singapore’s education system by

abandoning the GCE A level curriculum, which has been a cornerstone in the
national education system, to take up the IBDP. But does Aces Institution prepare
its students to be global citizens or do the strongly articulated national education
imperatives of Singapore get in the way? Loh explores the tensions between the
global IB curriculum and the Singaporean priority for nation building. She
deploys Bourdieu’s signature concept “habitus” to examine how students from
Ace Institution are shaped by the school’s institutional habitus to become global
citizens. Yet, she shows how irreconcilable tensions interfere as “class, schooling,
global and local imaginations intersect with institutional and individual habitus”.
The relationship between joy and privilege in the virtual spaces of elite school
websites and promotional materials is the focus of Christopher Drew, Kristina
Gottschall, Natasha Wardman, and Sue Saltmarsh in Chapter 5. They examine
such representations through discourse and semiotic analysis and non-
representation theory and draw primarily from Sara Ahmed’s theory of happiness.
Happiness in these virtual spaces is represented as an index of, and as belonging
to, a specific class, gender, and subjectivity. Drew et al. argue that the preferred
reading to these virtual texts is that the joy of schooling is a privileged and
exclusive enterprise not meant for all. And further the implication is that in all the
nooks and crannies of the school, and at all times, everyone is entitled to, and has
a responsibility to, be happy. This speaks both to the romanticisation of elite
schools as places and to the significance of emo-scapes in the virtual elite school
market. But it also leads to questions about the other emotional geographies of
education (Kenway & Youdell, 2011) and how elite schools monopolise
cheerfulness.
School websites are also the focus of Chapter 6 where Shane Watters analyses
28 old boys’ networks in the UK. He uses close content analysis and Bourdieu’s
social capital theory to unearth and explain the extent and nature of the influence
of these networks. Overall he points to the resources, connections and power
that reside within them. More specifically, his study illustrates that “the majority
of schools sampled showed signs of structuring their networks towards particular
employment destinations”. He also shows that these networks are not restricted
to the UK but are transnational, denoting the movement of transnational elites.
This virtual space of the network both represents and helps to mobilise valuable
relationships between the powerful in situ. Socialising and networking help those
in the network to accrue capitals that are recognised and can be translated into
favoured career prospects and/or positions in high places.
Radha Iyer’s Foucauldian discourse analysis, in Chapter 7, of 21 elite school
websites in India offers a sense of the spatialisation of privilege in this part of the
world in very different types of schools. Iyer points out that a distinctive feature
of elite schools in India is that their ‘eliteness’ and ‘privilege’ are symbiotically
linked to the history of colonialism. This history left a legacy that highly prized
Western education and knowledge. These sediments of colonialism help to
Introduction 13
constitute the identity of current elite schools in India and can be found in the
different types of discourses mobilised by the schools in virtual space. Additionally,
though, Iyer draws on the fivefold category system developed by Rubén
Gaztambide-Fernández to define an elite school and transfers his categories to
these Indian schools to assess their relevance across space. Despite the spatial and
scalar differences she finds that all his elements are represented in the 21 elite
school websites that she analysed. Additionally and importantly, though, these are
variously combined with discourses of the global and of postcolonial nationalism.
Bourdieu’s theory of the inheritance of cultural capital as a main resource for
the reproduction of educational and social advantage is challenged by Hugues
Draelants in Chapter 8. Writing also from France, but over 30 years after
Bourdieu’s (1986) key work on “capitals”, he proposes the spatial concept
“insiders” as opposed to “inheritors” as more relevant. His premise is that cultural
capital shifts with time. He supports this argument by focusing on school choice
in France as an example of a new form of cultural capital that requires parents to
have insider knowledge about possible educational pathways for their children.
He argues that it is this specific knowledge that allows them to skilfully navigate
education systems and to propitiously channel their various resources to their
greatest advantage. “Privilege” is therefore not about ‘inheriting’ cultural capital
because what is inherited may not be recognised as a useful capital. Rather,
becoming an “insider” allows one to have access to knowledge resources and
networks that can readily be converted in space/time.
When and how geographies of educational privilege have emerged in Portugal
is explored by Eunice Macedo and Helena Araújo in Chapter 9. They explain
that Portugal’s national education system is currently organised around a
centralised educational regime and that it is tainted by the global forces of
neoliberalism, marketisation, and commodification. In this context the demand
for elite private education has soared and the politics associated with class, elitism,
hierarchies and deepening inequalities have intensified. Their study of an elite
school in Portugal brings to light the life-style limits placed on students due to the
hyper-competitive politics of performativity, individualism, consumerism, as well
as the gender constraints that arise and constrain the lives of privileged girls and
boys. These are the blights of privilege. They focus on such forms of subjugation
amongst the well off themselves but also identify students’ highly judgemental
views of those outside their social and educational citadel.
Certain elite boarding schools in Switzerland are quite distinctive in that they
are owned and run by families and are passed down from one generation to
another as Caroline Bertron explains in Chapter 10. While the three schools she
studied are essentially prestigious family enterprises, they resist being called a
“business” or “elite”. Instead, they turn to national and historical legacies to
construct their own identity and brand. Bertron mobilises Bourdieu to show how
elite boarding schools in Switzerland actively brand themselves with various
forms of symbolic capital. For example, as a strategy of mobilising the “[local/
national] symbolic capital of recognition”, these expensive boarding schools

capitalise on the grandeur and the picturesque landscapes of the Swiss Alps. They
market place as a way of marketing themselves. The curriculum also strongly
emphasised local Swiss “pedagogues”. This is despite their claim to embrace
globalisation and internationalisation. Indeed, while these elite Swiss boarding
schools sell and brand themselves as schools with opportunities for cosmopolitan
learning, Bertron argues that “the symbolic economy of territorial identification”
is accorded priority.
The travel of the affluent is the topic examined by Bertrand Réau in Chapter
11. He presents a historical engagement with different types of educational travel
in Europe; the peregrinatio academica, the Grand Tour, and the ERASMUS
programme via the elite French Sciences Po. He shows how such travels relate to
the accumulation of social capital and thus class/elite formation. Réau’s study
shows that much like the Grand Tour, which was undertaken by privileged
classes, the travel associated with the ERASMUS programme is undertaken by
middle- and upper-middle-class young people who are already well travelled.
Social and class backgrounds are central, he argues, to explaining what students
gain from joining study abroad programmes. Such travel is a form of capital
accumulation intended to facilitate yet more capital accumulation on the global
stage.
The relationship between elite schooling, school choice and educational
advantage is the theme explored in Sandra Ziegler’s Chapter 12. She studied three
elite schools concentrated in the prosperous urban spaces of the city of Buenos
Aires in Argentina and illustrates how ‘choice’ is manifest in this locale. Here
affluent parents actively seek out suitable elite schools that will ensure that their
children will mix with those of similar class background—everyday social and
spatial segregation is regarded as rational and as nothing out of the ordinary.
Admission to these schools, she points out, does not include academic grades or so
called merit. Instead, the deciding factors include the family’s background including
job title, schools attended, the surnames of families, and interviews with adults.
Such advantage secures further advantage without even the veneer of ‘merit’
which is often a filter used, along with fees, by other elite schools (Koh, 2014).
Through the concept “economy of eliteness”, Howard Prosser, in Chapter
13, advances how ‘privilege’ is understood. He developed this term from a
historical and ethnographic study of an elite high fee school in changing Argentina.
Conceptually, an “economy of eliteness” exposes the market logic that operates
in this economy. “Elite”, as a label, has enormous exchange value within the
variously scaled but linked up economy of elite schools. Parents and students buy
an elite education because ‘status’ and ‘prestige’ are the symbolic capitals associated
with it. Importantly, parents have come to believe that this symbolic capital also
has exchange value in the market place of work; an investment in elite education
promises the economic return of a high paying/high status career. His concept
draws attention to the economic relations that exist outside elite schools; to those
Introduction 15
workplaces where the powerful make the money that enables them to purchase
elite education. It also calls attention to the finance-scapes involved in the buying
and selling of elite education. Prosser insists that such exchange value defines the
very essence of privilege, how it is acquired and by whom, and how class gets
reproduced.
Together the chapters gathered here indicate the multiple ways in which
geography matters in the constitution of privilege though education. They show
that educational privilege is enmeshed in power dynamics on various scales and
in different but intersecting spaces and places. These intercept global flows and
forces in specific ways, which have their own peculiar densities. As such they
point to the relativity and relational geographical dynamics of privilege.
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1
BECOMING THE MAN
Redefining Asian Masculinity in an Elite
Boarding School
Wee Loon Yeo
“I never saw our school as an elite school or one of those ‘preppy’ schools. To
me, it is a home where I lived and hung out with my friends during those years.
It never once crossed my mind that the school is considered elite. In fact, I only
realised how much the school shaped me until much later on,” Zach revealed
during a conversation we had two years ago. Our paths first crossed when he was
a final year student at St Andrew’s School, an elite private boys’ boarding school,
where I conducted fieldwork as part of my Doctoral dissertation in 2007. Six
years on, Zach had since graduated from university and just started working in
the family business when we caught up again.
Zach’s oblivion on his alma mater being considered elite is not entirely
surprising given the myriad definitions and confusing representations (Walford,
1991). While elite boarding schools have been discussed in various works and
defined in disparate ways, Gaztambide-Fernández (2009a) suggests five constitutive
traits that make an elite boarding school: They must be typologically, scholastically,
historically, demographically, and geographically elite. When seen in light of
these traits, St Andrew’s School, a private boarding school for boys in Perth,
Western Australia, should be regarded as elite. In the public eye, the school was
renowned for not only being consistently among the top performing schools in
the state tertiary entrance exams, their students also excelled in non-academic
fields such as sport and debating. Geographically, the school has been located
along the river in a premium residential suburb in Perth since it was founded in
the early 1900s. These characteristics, Gaztambide-Fernández (2009b) would
argue, contribute to the process by which students “construct elite identification
and internalise their privilege” (p. 28). Hence, elite boarding school, with its all-
inclusive routine and holistic regulation of the lives of its occupants, acts as a social
system for the acceptance of new cultural values. Living and participating in
Asian Masculinity in an Elite School 19
activities within such close proximity of each other helped to construct and
reinforce traits shared by most members of the group. These qualities could be
observed through embodied practices, vital for creating and maintaining a sense of
being in the presence of other groups in the school community (Koh & Kenway,
2012). This approach is apparent in Allan and Charles’ (2014) study of feminine
identity in a private girls’ school. They explored how ‘classed feminism’, an
intrinsic part of the students’ identity, was produced and articulated against the
backdrop of a long-established and privileged context. This study, like others who
examined gender identities, put forward schools as key social sites where these
contestations and representations could be explored. From Willis’ (1977) study on
the cultures and sub-cultures of working class ‘lads’ to Renolds’ (2004) account of
boys who shaped their masculinities against the ideal categories perpetuated by the
school, these studies often emphasised the plurality and hierarchical nature of
masculinities (Connell, 1989). Such studies traced the collective and dynamic
character of masculinity through immersive research methods. Similarly, this
chapter situates the discussion of masculine identity in the boarding school but
through the perceptions and expressions of Asian boarders in St Andrew’s School.
Such discussions remain relevant as schools evolve their social purposes in a
rapidly globalised landscape (Kenway & Fahey, 2014). These changes can be seen
as responses and adaptations to new cultural discourses which result in new
definitions and expressions of gender identities. Rapid globalisation can also be
witnessed in the changing dynamics within the elite boarding school community.
International students are now mainstays in many Australian private schools. Recent
data from Australian Education International (AEI, 2014) revealed more than
500,000 international students have studied in Australian schools since 2008.
Australian Education International or AEI uses ‘international students’ as an
umbrella term to include all foreign-born students who are studying in Australia
on a student visa regardless of their country of birth. Australian citizens and
permanent residents are excluded from this group. In most cases, international
students are not eligible for Australian Government subsidies and have to pay full
fees. In St Andrew’s School the term ‘overseas students’ was used broadly to refer
to students who did not hold an Australian passport or did not have permanent
residency. This group of students included three Anglo-Saxon boarders who
were born in Europe and Canada, but the overwhelming majority were from
Southeast Asia. In St Andrew’s School, staff members commonly used the term
‘Asian boarders’ to describe students who came from Asia and had the appearance
of an ‘Asian’. Zach and 43 other students came under this banner when they were
boarding in St Andrew’s School during 2007.
Drawing on the experiences of the Asian boarders, this chapter sets out to
illustrate how this group of boys shaped and positioned their masculine identity
as they resided in an elite boarding school setting. The first section of the chapter
explores the ideal notions of masculinity portrayed and projected by the boarding
school staff members through the school’s publicity materials. The remainder of
20 Wee Loon Yeo
the chapter examines the creative extent to which the Asian boarders managed to
negotiate and maintain alternative masculinities. Central to this discussion is their
privileged background and unique position as the minority. My analysis recognises
that the Asian boarders were active in their resistance and conformity to
hegemonic masculinity. Through these processes, they gained clearer definitions
of their Asian identity.
Hegemonic Masculinity: The St Andrew’s School Man

Masculinity does not exist as an ontological given, but comes into existence
through deliberate construction and constant reinforcing. Hence, schools are
often seen as sites where masculine identities are shaped and articulated (Connell,
1989; Gilbert & Gilbert, 1998; Greene, 2007). This section examines idealised
forms of masculinity upheld by the school as embodied in the ‘St Andrew’s
School Man’ through staff members. This model is then contrasted with the
Asian boarders’ perception of ‘Asian masculinity’.
In St Andrew’s School, most of the boarding staff were males. Their ascribed
role was to look after the residential welfare of all boys in their respective year
level and formally supervise the boys throughout the week and on weekends, as
well as help with excursions and other activities within the community. Another
additional obligation that might not be entirely apparent was that they were put
forward as the model of masculinity upheld by St Andrew’s School.
Cookson and Persell (1985) noted that the key element their researched school
sought when hiring new boarding staff was “balance”, where successful applicants
were required to have “academic skills, sports skills, artistic skills, as well as
personal characteristics as gender, experience, morality, and last but by no means
least, enthusiasm” (p. 90). While every school’s conception of balance may vary,
staff members were certainly promoted to the public as well-rounded individuals
who not only had the academic qualifications to carry out their duties; they also
possessed other qualities that epitomised the school’s ideology of masculinity.
Analysis of the publicity materials and school website offers insight into the
definition and certain essential qualities that the St Andrew’s Man must possess.
Students in the boarding community therefore do not need to look far to find
examples of the masculinity to which they should aspire. The staffing patterns and
structure within the boarding community also served as examples of the expected
conduct of the St Andrew’s Man.
In a typical school publication, they began by detailing the role and
responsibilities of that particular staff member:
Matt is the Year 10 Coordinator and is the primary contact for all our Year
10 boarding parents. He is responsible for the leadership, pastoral care,
spirit and morale, security, supervision and discipline of all boarders, in
such a way as to promote their growth and well-being. He is charged with
the task of ensuring that the residential experience of a St Andrew’s School

boarder is an engaging and rewarding one. The aim is to empower boarders
to take charge of their own lives by developing them to be confident and
capable young men in an atmosphere of warmth, support and care.
One could comment that most aspects of the job were difficult to measure but
what these terms mapped out was the social learning and atmosphere the boarding
community could provide for the boarders. By reiterating lofty qualities such as
‘leadership’, ‘spirit and morale’, and ‘empowering’, the school presented what
Connell (1990) calls an ‘ideological framework’ which embodies key traits that all
conceptions need to align with.
The description would go on to present the credentials of the staff member,
beginning with their educational background, followed by their relevant
experiences as a teacher:
Matt graduated from the University of Queensland with a Bachelor’s

degree in Arts with Honours. After relocating to Perth, he attained a
Graduate Diploma in Education from the University of Western Australia.
At the start of his teaching career, Matt spent nine years working at
agricultural schools around Western Australia as a teacher of Social Science
and English, he taught at Pasture School in rural Kalgoorlie. Matt joined
the St Andrew’s School in 1995 as a teacher of English and Social Science.
Last year, he joined the boarding house as a Year Coordinator.
From this description, we can infer that the first element crucial in the St Andrew’s
School concept of masculinity was that a man should possess academic ability and
intellect. This emphasis was stated as one of the school’s aims “to enable boys to
grow in knowledge, skills and understanding”. The boys were inculcated in the
values of working hard to develop and refine their intellectual ability. They must
also value and take responsibility for their educational endeavours.
Having established intellectual ability as the most important quality, the
introduction went on to highlight other qualities the institution perceived as
required from young men of the school:
An accomplished hockey player, Matt competed in State level competitions.

In the co-curricular domain, Matt has coached hockey and tennis. He is
currently the Teacher in Charge of Hockey.
In another example, talent of a different nature is described:
Having a keen interest in music, Stephen teaches piano lessons on the

weekends, plays in a jazz ensemble once a week and plays the piano
recreationally.
22 Wee Loon Yeo
The above description resonates with Cookson and Persell’s (1985) observation
that the ideal staff member and student should have balance. Therefore, by
including the other interests or as the school termed it, “special talents” of the
staff members, the school upheld the ideal of a balanced man with multiple skills,
particularly in sports or music. The school positively encouraged these interactions
and hoped that through them a set of practices that construct models, ideas,
activities and relations to promote particular forms of masculinity could be
imparted (Gilbert & Gilbert, 1998, p. 114). Through increased contact with staff
members, the boarders could perceive the staff members as not only teachers but
as individuals endowed with additional abilities. It was common to see staff
members join the boarders in an impromptu game of soccer or basketball after
school. Qualified staff members willingly offered pointers to the boarders on how
to improve aspects of their game. Interactions such as these added to the respect
the boarders had for the staff members. Furthermore, boarding staff members
often had to volunteer as coaches in the various sports teams. Hence, training
sessions and games provided opportunities for interaction. Staff members had
many opportunities to establish more personal and open relationships with
boarders than the formal classroom might allow. Such shared experiences between
student–teacher led to ‘deep bonding’ (Gaztambide-Fernández, 2009b, p. 142),
consequential for reinforcing institutional ideologies.
The final aspect often featured in the introduction to the school was personal
information on a staff member, especially those regarding his family:
He lives with his wife Mary and two boys Peter and Jonathan in the
boarding House, which is attached to the accommodation for the boarders.
The inclusion of this information is interesting because of the various connotations,

both overt and veiled, conveyed through this short description. These discourses
conveyed undertones of masculinity implying that a man’s responsibilities are to
his family and with that the mandate to be the provider, leader and protector.
Mac an Ghaill (1996) suggests that if schools are perceived as active agents in the
cultural production of masculinities, a teacher’s role should be identified as being
important to this notion since teachers ‘actively produce a range of masculinities’
and femininities that are made available for students collectively to negotiate and
occupy (p. 385). In other words, the efforts of the school in presenting the
boarding staff members as family men endorsed and provided a conceptual map
to begin to explore the range of masculine formations required of students.
Summarising the qualities essential for the quintessential St Andrew’s School
man, he must be accomplished in three main areas: intellect, physical abilities,
and character. All three qualities contribute to what Honey (1977) terms as “an
air of self-confidence in knowing that he can accomplish greatness” (p. 43).
Various investigations into traditional boarding school ideology reveal similar
emphasis on individuals being “well-adjusted” and possessing “prep poise”
(Cookson and Persell, 1985, p. 54). According to research in gender studies, the
variation of meanings could be attributed to how masculinity is historically and
socially constructed (Atkins, 2005; Connell, 2000). These qualities are certainly
embodied in the school’s depiction of staff members. However, it is necessary to
consider how masculine identities are constituted in relation to other identities.
For instance, cultural background could ascribe different meaning to status,
virtues, and expectations. Connell and Messerschmidt (2005), in their discussion
of ‘hegemonic masculinity’, noted that masculinity could be expressed and
experienced differently by diverse cultural groups. Connell (1990) defines
hegemonic masculinity as ‘the culturally idealised form of masculine character’
which is characterised by male heterosexuality and physical, social, and economic
power. Connell (1990) argues that idealised forms of masculinity become
hegemonic when it is widely accepted in a context and when that acceptance
reinforces the dominant gender ideology of the context. Connell (1996) asserts
that although the hegemonic form of masculinity may be what many males aspire
to achieve, alternate forms of masculinity could vary according to cultural setting.
Hence, she suggested that two diametric processes are likely to be taking place;
first, the promotion of one’s own form of masculinity and secondly, the active
defence against the competing form. Similarly, the Asian boarders actively
reinforced notions of masculinity from their home countries as they were
confronted with the different cultural forms of masculinity present in a boys’
school in Australia. These previous notions of masculinity inevitably shaped the
ways they related to each other and promoted their group identity.
In the next section, I discuss the Asian boarders’ own constructions of
masculinity and consider its implications in terms of the school’s notion of the ‘St
Andrew’s School man’.
The Wen–Wu of Asian Boarders’ Masculinity

Masculinity is often overlooked in the context of educational research and Asian
students have largely been ignored in Australian research. Luke (1997) highlights
the awkward treatment of Asian masculinity in Australian research because Asians
are “without any of the defining characteristics of dominant masculinity—white
skin, hairy chests, beards and facial hair, big arms and big muscles” (p. 32). Kam
Louie (2002), in his book Theorising Chinese Masculinity, suggests an alternative
model for understanding Asian masculinity. He adopts the indigenous theoretical
construct of a Chinese warrior and scholar (wen–wu) to analyse Chinese
masculinity and suggests that “the dynamic tension between the poles of wen and
wu permits the production of a varied number of possible expressions of male
self” (p. 20). He argues that all forms of masculinity should be valued and viewed
cross-culturally, stressing the need to know their “meanings, implications and
significance” (p. 165). I described earlier the centrality of ‘balance’ and ‘all-
rounder’ to the ‘St Andrew’s School Man’. In similar ways, an ideal man, as
24 Wee Loon Yeo
described by Kam (2002) would embody a balance of wen and wu. Similar to the
commonly invoked Chinese paradigm of yin–yang, he puts forward that “both
essences are regarded as being in constant interaction where yin merges with yang
and the yang with the yin in an endless dynamism” (p. 9). He uses this paradigm
to demonstrate how the seeming opposition between wen, the mental or civil,
and wu, the physical or martial, should be perceived to be essential for men of
substance because it invokes both the authority of the scholar and the bravery of
a warrior. The following discussion seeks to juxtapose the earlier representation
of the St Andrew’s man with the Asian boarder’s expression of masculinity. Kam’s
(2002) model of wen–wu masculinity forms the framework I have adopted to
investigate the various articulations by the Asian boarders.
The Asian Warrior

The characteristics of wu, according to Kam Louie (2002), are easier for western
culture to identify as masculine traits because of their association with behaviour
such as “bravery, mateship and physical strength” (p. 23). Sport is predictably an
arena where these qualities are demonstrated. Connell (1990) notes the connection
of sport with “hegemonic masculinity”, which is defined as “the culturally
idealized form of masculine character” that emphasises “the connecting of
masculinity to toughness and competitiveness” (p. 83). Building on this, sport
becomes hegemonic because it inevitably presents an idealised form of masculinity
that is widely accepted in a culture and that can also vary between cultures.
Sport
Like the Australian boarders, the Asian boarders enjoyed playing and following
sport. Table tennis and badminton are examples of sports popular in most
Southeast Asian countries, where their luminaries are widely admired in similar
ways to sports stars in Australia. However, unlike the Australian emphasis on
toughness and aggression, qualities such as tactical acumen, respect towards
opponents, and finesse are revered in the Southeast Asian variant. Wang (2000)
highlights the association between Chinese masculinity and qualities such as
kinship, decorum, and humility. Yet set against the western interpretation of
masculinity, those qualities would be labelled as ‘effeminate and passive, and thus
unmanly’ (p. 117). Many of the Asian boarders were already actively involved in
sport and had a keen interest in certain games. These games continued to be
played with much enthusiasm in the boarding house as the school provided table
tennis tables and badminton courts that were the site of many intense duels during
weekends and after school lessons.
Sport, as Whannel (2002) comments, “confers and confirms masculinity” (p.
10) and various studies have drawn the connection between sports stars and the
construction of gendered identities (e.g., Martino, 2000; Burgess, Edwards &
Skinner, 2003). Connell (1990) emphasised the qualities of “toughness and

competitiveness” as core components of the “culturally idealized form of
masculine character”. The Asian boarders constructed a hybridised version of
‘warrior’ masculine traits by piecing together the positive aspects of Chinese
sporting constructions such as humility, teamwork, and tactics with western
representations that involved individual heroism, dominance, and flair. These
constructions also appeared to influence their views of other forms of masculinity
in the school as demonstrated by their strongly dismissive attitudes towards
Australian Rules football, a game many Australian boarders play. When Aran, an
avid soccer fan, was asked about his views on soccer and how it compared to
Australian Rules football, he replied:
Soccer requires so much more skill, why would they call it the beautiful
game? Aussie rules is fucked up, such a stupid game ... requires no intelligence
to play it but playing soccer, you need more brains and tactics.
He further elaborated that greater mental finesse was required to appreciate the
skills in soccer rather than the spectacle of many more goals as in Australian Rules
football. When I asked Chingy, an outspoken boarder from Malaysia, he revealed
a deeper level of analysis of Australian culture through Australian Rules football:
Aussie rules footy do not have any rules. It is just a combination of American
football and Rugby. Very much like the Aussies ... they don’t have their
own culture but more of an amalgamation of American and English culture.
Aussie rules are played by a bunch of poofters in tight shorts.
From these statements, we observe the Asian boarders’ dismissive attitude towards
Australian Rules football and tendency to distance themselves from the qualities
the game embodied. At the same time, they projected their disdain for the sport
onto Australian culture. This indicates that sport was such a significant dimension
of the Asian boarders’ lives that it became a constant basis for their interpretations
and judgements about cultural differences in their boarding experience. Since the
group was made up of boarders, all of the sport they participated in occurred
within the confines of the school. Yet, masculine identity is not constructed as
some abstract idea, which is then imposed on the boarders, nor is it confined to
the walls of the school. Masculinity is always constructed in relationships and
situations, which are brought about by other dimensions of boarding life including
activities outside of boarding school.
The next section describes another unique conduit through which the Asian
boarders framed and expressed their masculinity. Again, this version of masculinity
involves competitiveness and embodied the spirit of wu masculinity. Since this
activity took place during weekend city leave and beyond the limits of the school,
it offers an alternative vision of how their masculinity was constructed.
26 Wee Loon Yeo
Let’s Go Tuning!
During the weekends, the Asian boarders usually spent their afternoons at
Timezone. Timezone is a trendy arcade gaming centre where patrons can pre-
purchase credits and indulge in an eclectic range of video arcade games. The
Asian boarders only played one game: ‘Wangan Midnight Maximum Tune’
(MT) or as they called it, ‘Tuning’. The premise of this game is relatively simple:
a player can pick from a selection of sports cars and then challenge other players
to street races through various virtual landscapes and courses. Upon completion
of the race, the player will be awarded points according to their finishing position.
These points can then be accumulated and used to ‘tune’ their cars through a
variety of upgrades such as engine modifications, ‘dressing up’ the car through
supplementary accessories and loud paint jobs. Each player has a magnetic card
that stores game data such as car modifications and game levels. The great appeal
of this game to the Asian boarders was that through it they could imagine their
dream cars, customise them according to their tastes, and compete with other
players.
Keen to find out more about MT’s appeal, I asked Tin, an avid gamer, what
he enjoyed about the game:
It is very exciting, you know, challenging other people and yourself. The
graphics are very cool also. Uh. Almost like you are really driving. I’ve
always read manga [Japanese comics], especially those car racing. Tune is
good because it gives me a chance to be like one of those drivers. I love the
cars. My favourite one is the 180SX [Nissan]. I put in a lot of effort to
improve it. The body work also. People look at it; they know this car is me.
Reflecting on this dialogue with Tin, he maintained a strong emotional

attachment to his virtual car. Driving it offered him feelings of liberation and
empowerment. To Stradling (2002, citing Sheller, 2002), part of the attraction
for the young in driving a car is the ‘sense of displayed personal identity it conveys’
(p. 11). Several studies have drawn on this very observation and conceptualised
the term ‘Car Culture’ where a vehicle is not simply a rational economic choice
but can be perceived as an extension of the self, or “a device for performing
gender” (p. 17). In the case of the Asian boarders who enjoyed MT, their vehicles
might have only been virtual simulations but the feelings for their cars were
deeply felt. These feelings bore similarities to the young working-class men
described in Walker’s (1998) study on masculinity and motor vehicle use. In both
instances, the focus was on performance and demonstration, crucial to a process
of “making masculinity” (p. 24). As Tin revealed, the boys perceived the MT
races as a channel through which to establish and compete for positions in the
hierarchy of masculinities. It follows then that a priority for them was to possess
a car admired by their peers, the most important elements being speed and
performance. However, sheer horsepower and electrifying livery were not

enough to gain victory. Tin needed to invest time and money to hone his driving
skills. The money spent on this game was quite significant. Most of them revealed
spending more than one to two hundred dollars on MT per month. This amount,
they admitted, was hefty to spend on an arcade game but justifiable because it
provided reprieve from boarding life and reinforced their collective notion as
Asian men.
Linking this with Kam’s (2002) discussion of masculinity and wu attributes, a
warrior is not one who exercises military strength impulsively but one who also
possesses the wisdom and restraint to know when and where to deploy it (p. 14).
Walker (1998) makes a similar argument when pointing out that driving prowess
combines physical, intellectual, and psychological elements. All these factors
contributed to the Asian boarders’ attraction to MT and, at the same time,
provided an outlet for their expression of masculinity. The trait of using a car as
a form of articulation was unlikely to change as they often discussed the types of
car they hoped to drive once they had left school and obtained their licence.
Drawing together the contents of their discourse, it was not surprising that the
cars of their yearning did not deviate from the invented forms in MT. The
characteristics of their dream cars were largely similar: they were Japanese,
characterised by speed, sleek bodywork and interior, flamboyant paintjobs, and
embellished with light-emitting diodes. Most of the Asian boarders were able to
tell me specifically the make and model of their dream cars: Nissan (180SX,
Fairlady Z, Skyline GT-R), Mitsubishi (Evolution), and Subaru (WRX). After
all, the aim of ‘car culture’ is to be noticed and to this end, their car needs to stand
out from the rest (Walker, Butland & Connell, 2000). Their continual emphasis
on Japanese cars is interesting not because of the vociferous manner in which
they conveyed this desire but because of the attached social meaning. Japanese
sports cars, to the Asian boarders, reflected their ‘Asian pride’. Don articulated
this clearly:
It shows that we can be just as good if not better than the Aussies. You see
those Japanese cars. They are faster, lighter, powerful and a lot more fuel
efficient. Not just brute force and power but must have control and style.
Through this excerpt, we can tell that a car to the Asian boarders was not merely
an inanimate object to fulfil specific functions such as transportation but a desire
for difference. This desire was driven by different motivations. As Sheller (2002)
expresses it, “Car consumption is never simply about rational economic choices,
but is as much about aesthetic, emotional and sensory responses to driving, as well
as patterns of kinship, sociability, habitation and work” (p. 2). To the Asian
boarders, their MT car and conception of their dream car was a medium that
reflected their perception of masculinity, their dreams for the future, an imagined
lifestyle where “goods are imagined and dreamed about before they are purchased”
28 Wee Loon Yeo
(Carrabine & Longhurst, 2002, p. 187). For the Asian boarders, gaining a driver’s
licence and possessing a sports car was the ultimate expression of maturity and
manhood. I noticed these aspirations were eventually realised after they left St
Andrew’s School. All of them attained a driving licence during university and
most of them owned a car. This was evident on online social media where photos
of their cars were shared and discussed. Earlier, I highlighted Tin’s penchant for
Nissan sports cars. He eventually owned a black Honda Accord with customised
livery and light strips.
While immersing in car culture represented a physical emblem of maturity and
embodied qualities such as control and mental ability for the Asian boarders, it
could also be seen as an externalisation of their elite position. The continuity of
overt cultural forms from their time at St Andrew’s School was apparent and
realised as they progressed in their elite futures.
The Asian Scholar

Possessing a powerful car is only half the race won. Earlier I touched on the Asian
boarders’ reflection that possessing control and the mental capability to win races
were just as crucial as horsepower. Kam (2002) classifies these ‘genteel’ and ‘refined’
qualities as those associated with a person who is accomplished in wen: ‘cultured
men’ (p. 14). These qualities bear close resemblance to St Andrew’s School’s
conception of an educated man. Within this construction, educational
accomplishments were an expression of St Andrew’s School masculinity, particularly
in the way they measured and vied with each other academically. Most of the Asian
boarders also placed great emphasis on education. After all, they were sent to Perth
to further their studies and viewed the classroom as a competitive space.
The Asian boarders knew who among them were the good students and this
knowledge did not appear to hinder their friendships with each other. The Asian
boarders, irrespective of school performance, lived together and went out together.
During these times of communication, there was usually no mention of academic
performance nor did the high achievers form a clique. This was no different during
assessment periods. Often the high achievers would be at their busiest not because
of their exam revisions but because the other boarders would pester them for help
with work questions. Since the ‘high achieving’ Asian boarders often compared
results, one would expect the high achievers to be vexed by these constant
approaches which interrupted their own work, but that was not the case. I witnessed
many occasions where the high achievers willingly obliged their peers. Ken was
one such example who was known around the school as a mathematics and science
‘whiz’. It was not uncommon to see some boys knocking on his room door during
prep time seeking his input on studies, and Ken usually obliged. The following
reflection provided a clue to his willingness to help others:
I was a mediocre student in my school in Singapore. So I know how it feels

to need help but not getting it. Now that I am in the position to help
others, why not? It feels good too that others know that you are good and
come to you for help. I, of course, must help because we all should do well
together.
Ken’s thoughts were similar to Tin’s revelation as to why he enjoyed playing

Maximum Tune. Both disclosed that recognition from their peers made them
“feel good”. These positive feelings came from affirmations from members of the
group as well as the recognition that they could contribute back to the group.
Willis (1977) in his study of working-class youth in Hammertown, found that
during their secondary school years, the lads changed their collective attitudes to
class work and orientated themselves more to their peer group. This desire to fit
in with the ‘lads’ undermined any conspicuous efforts of working hard in school.
As Gilbert and Gilbert (1998) put it, there is a “potential stigma associated with
doing too well at school” (p. 140). Hence, even the more competent boys in
Willis’ study were swayed into disruptive behaviour to demonstrate their sense of
solidarity with the group.
For Ken and the Asian boarders, the opposite was observed as the more able
students were willing to help their weaker peers. Ken’s desire to help his peers
was driven by similar motivations to the Hammertown lads but instead of using
disruptive behaviour to fit in as a collective, he desired his peers to work hard as
a collective to gain pride for the Asian boarders. This strong belief in collective
learning was also observed in Kuriloff and Reichert’s (2003) study on elite
schools. By adopting this stance, they underplayed the failings of the low
achievers, leading to greater group homogeneity. While being a scholar is an
important aspect of wen masculinity, for the Asian boarders, it was not competition
or domination but group camaraderie that took precedence. A central marker of
masculinity for the Asian boarders was the potential benefits that excelling as a
group could bring. After all, they were in the school with the aim of excelling in
their studies, progressing to university and ultimately, seeking a road to a lucrative
career path.
This fits with another articulation of wen masculinity: through successfully
negotiating the examination system, the scholar gains a foothold for realising high-
ranking posts which in turn translates to wealth, power, and status (Kam, 2002, p.
60), bringing to mind the school’s construction of a man’s responsibility as a
provider. Indeed, an important marker of masculinity for the Asian boarders was a
lucrative career path, which strongly implies their ability to be the sole provider for
and protector of their family. Most of them were ambivalent about their future
spouses working and indicated that women should care for the family and look after
household tasks. The following statement by Ivan illustrated this attitude.
30 Wee Loon Yeo
I want to have a good job that pays well. It’s good because I can enjoy life
like eating out and going out to buy, like, stuff. Plus being the guy, I should
earn more than my gf [girlfriend] or future wife.
While this respondent first referred to the more immediate aspirations of living
life in the fast lane, his latter views were defined in terms of “the logic of a
patriarchal gender system” (Connell & Messerschmidt, 2005, p. 832). Their
views on gender roles were clearly influenced by the patterns of practice they had
observed in their own households. Most families in the Asian boarders’ home
countries consisted of mothers who were full-time homemakers and fathers who
pursued profitable careers. The importance of hard work was therefore emphasised
as central to their perceptions of themselves as successful males who would
become providers, protectors and guardians. The progression implied by most of
the Asian boarders was that good grades in education could lead to a high paying
job. Embarking on a lucrative career path would facilitate the acquisition of
wealth essential for being a good provider—a marker of elite Asian masculinity.
Conclusion
This chapter opened with Zach’s reflection that his years spent in St Andrew’s
School profoundly shaped his life and gave him clearer definition of his identity.
When I met Zach last year, he had recently become engaged to a lady he met while
at university; he was being groomed to helm the family business, still played
badminton regularly, and was driving a sports coupe. He could, in many ways,
embody the qualities of the St Andrew’s School Man. The St Andrew’s School
Man was put forward as an ideal type in the school’s attempt to produce and
transmit dominant notions of masculinity. Juxtaposing this portrayal with the Asian
boarders’ conception, the chapter drew parallels between the two and at the same
time highlighted variations in what they considered masculine. To this end, it
discussed the discourses of masculinity within this small group of Asian boarders.
While being an ‘all rounder’ who is accomplished in both intellect and physical
pursuits is also esteemed in the context of Asian wen–wu masculinity, the Asian
boarders also found unique channels of expression. Although it is not possible to
generalise from the themes that have emerged, my findings suggest that it was the
interaction between the boys’ notions of masculinity from their home culture
and the school construction that shaped their group identity.
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2
CAPITALISING ON
WELL-ROUNDEDNESS
Chinese Students’ Cultural Mediations in an
Elite Australian School
Yujia Wang
Introduction
There is a trend among elite schools that increasingly seeks to market their
peculiar forms of social, cultural and physical capital to ensure the production and
reproduction of advantage and privilege among students (English, 2009; Forbes
& Weiner, 2008; Horne et al., 2011; Kenway & Koh, 2013; Weenink, 2008). In
the new sociology of elite schooling how these forms of capital work to shape
student identities has attracted scholarly attention.
Among the studies of elite schools, a recent body of literature approaches elite
education from a transnational perspective. This body of work investigates how
international students choose to take up and experience an elite education
overseas. Particular attention is paid to explore how students’ cultural practices
and identities are shaped by the ‘formative possibilities’ of overseas elite schooling
(Matthews & Sidhu, 2005; Rizvi, 2005; Waters & Brooks, 2011; Weenink,
2008). However, the existent work fails to explore the link between international
students’ uses and experiences of overseas elite education as a transcultural space
in their explorations of cultural identities in transnational mobility.
Theoretically engaging with and in an attempt to enhance cultural cosmopolitan
theses, this chapter employs the notions of cultural logic and mediation to
investigate the processes of students’ cultural identities. It relates to the question
of what constitutes a good life intersected with personal cultural choices in
transnationality. It seeks to go beyond the deconstruction of a territorialised
notion of culture and engage with the de-territorialising of geographies of
meanings, values and ethics under the geographies of power regimes and forces.
In this chapter, I use interview data to test out and extend notions of mobile
identities with a specific focus on well-roundedness as a potential form of elite
34 Yujia Wang
cultural capital. I want to explore how well well-roundedness travels among

Chinese international students and the implications of this travel in elite education.
In so doing, I examine the students’ perceptions of this notion, their related cultural
practices and mediations behind such practices. By focusing on well-roundedness
as the selling point of the elite school, I aim to explore, from a transnational
perspective, the theoretical connections between Chinese students’ cultural
interpretations of well-roundedness, cultural practices and cultural identities.
Generally speaking, I intersect my interest in elite schools with a transnational
perspective to contribute to the theorisation of youthful cultural identities.
This chapter begins by proposing an analytical framework. The notions of
cultural mediation and cultural logic will be introduced and enhanced, with a
discussion of the usefulness of cultural cosmopolitanism theses in cultural identities
theorisation. Schoolteachers’ construction of the well-roundedness ethos will
follow. My analysis then turns to students’ interpretations and cultural practices
in relation to this notion of well-roundedness and the school-orchestrated
co-curricular programmes. I conclude this chapter by reviewing my findings,
theoretical development and implications for elite schools.
Theoretical Frameworks
I draw on Mazzarella (2004) and Ong (1999) to initiate the theorisation of
personal cultural identity. Mazzarella (2004, p. 345) conceptualises individual
cultural identity as a process and subject to mediation. Mediation is ‘a social act’
and ‘a constitutive process in social life’: an individual’s cultural identity is the
outcome of processes of mediation.
I delineate Mazzarella’s notion of mediation into three modes to clarify the
processual nature of an individual’s cultural identity. The starting point for
mediation is ‘cultural difference’, which is identified by individuals by means of
their “reified schemes of cultural identity and cultural difference” (Mazzarella,
2004, p. 360). Cultural difference is important in the process of mediation, as it
is understood as “a potentiality, a space of indeterminacy inherent to all processes
of mediation, and therefore inherent to the social process per se” (Mazzarella,
2004, p. 360). It offers the node of mediation for individuals. In the first mode of
mediation, values and meanings are “produced” through “nodes of mediation”
(Mazzarella, 2004, p. 346).
The second mode of mediation involves individuals’ contestations about
values and meanings that are newly deciphered “more or less self-consciously, in
the name of culture” (Mazzarella, 2004, p. 346). That is, new meanings and
values extracted from cultural difference are conceived, received and made sense
of in terms of culture. This mode of mediation manifests the individual cultural
choice making in the form of cultural practices of either rejection or incorporation.
Individuals’ cultural practices are demonstrative of the outcome of their personal
cultural choice.
Capitalising on Well-Roundedness 35
In Mazzarella’s thesis, an individual’s cultural identity process needs the third

mode of mediation for him/her to make sense of his/her cultural choice in terms
of his/her formerly formed or shaped identity, or sense of a cultured self. This
mediation involves the act of reflexively realigning an individual’s cultural choice
in terms of a cultured sense of self, as
Mediation is the process by which the self recognizes itself by returning to

itself, renewed and once removed.
(Mazzarella, 2004, p. 357).
Mazzarella’s notion of mediation is a useful tool for me to use to analyse Chinese

international students’ cultural identity as processes in transnationality, especially
through my demarcating the three modes of cultural mediation. However, it
seems that Mazzarella regards cultural mediation, meanings and values as neutral
and power free. Here I find Ong’s (1999) cultural logics/power duality most
useful to be engaged with.
This duality manifests her epistemological departure from that of Mazzarella’s
in understanding culture, cultural practices, cultural logics, and individual cultural
identity. Culture, she argues, cannot be teased out of rationality regimes, as it is
inseparable from ‘rational’ institutions or power regimes, such as “the economy,
the legal system, and the state” (Ong, 1999, p. 23). Cultural practices in the form
of “little routines and scenarios of everyday life” embody, enact and are reciprocal
and reflexive of rationalities calculated out of specific geographical configuration
of power. Cultural logics are cultural rationalities. Therefore, for Ong, cultural
values, meanings and norms are far from being neutral. Instead, they are
manifestations of rationalities shaped within “relations of domination” and
“relations of reciprocity and solidarity” (Ong, 1999, p. 5).
Mazarella’s understanding of mediation as a neutral social act, with neutral
values and meanings, now contradicts with Ong’s power-laden conceptualisation
of culture. I meld Mazzarella’s neutral notion of mediation with Ong’s power
approach to rationalities as mediation/power duality. That is, here I strike off
neutrality in Mazzarella’s mediation/values duality, bring in Ong’s rationalities/
power duality and blend them in a new mediation/rationalities duality. In so
doing, mediation is no longer neutral. Rather, it is subject to power regimes and
it produces rationalities towards values, meanings, and norms. This mediation/
power duality is the conceptual tool I employ in this chapter.
Engaging with the Cultural Cosmopolitan Theses

With my theoretical tools of mediation/power and cultural logics of
transnationality, I am concerned about how to work with, and in an attempt to
develop further, theories of cosmopolitan identities that have been widely used to
theorise identities in today’s life world of mobilities and flows. However, the term
36 Yujia Wang
cosmopolitanism or cosmopolitan identity “continues to escape easy definition”

(Skrbiš & Woodward, 2013, p. 2). Skrbiš and Woodward (2013) regard
cosmopolitanism as something of a project or process, and identify its four basic
dimensions, namely, the cultural, political, ethical, and methodological. In this
chapter, I focus on the cultural dimension of this term in transnational contexts.
Skrbiš and Woodward stress that the “leitmotif of contemporary cosmopolitan
identity” is openness or “the practice of openness to cultural difference” (Skrbiš
& Woodward, 2013, p. 14). Likewise, Hannerz (1990, p. 239) observes that
cosmopolitanism “must entail relationships to a plurality of cultures understood
as distinctive entities”, although cultures, territorially defined in terms of nations,
regions, or localities, “tend to overlap and mingle” and are not “easily separated
from one another as the hard-edged pieces in a mosaic”. He highlights an open
attitude to the practices of incorporating other cultures or nation-state demarcated
cultural contrasts. This conception emphasises an active practice taken towards
cultural diversity rather than towards cultural uniformity. Cultural
cosmopolitanism, therefore, can be used to refer to the state of cultural
‘co-existence’ in relation to the native/non-native culture nexus.
Although cultural cosmopolitanism theses contribute to the line of argument
that challenges conventional understandings of a nation-state bounded notion of
identities, the nation-state remains a defining feature of the ideas of
cosmopolitanism. Thus, the nation-state is further reinforced as a bounded and
legitimate cultural marker. This introduces a line of confusion into these
cosmopolitan theories. In contrast, it is argued, from the vantage point of cultural
globalisation studies, that the nation-state as the bounded unit of culture is
de-territorialised, and, consequently, culture begins to lose its distinctiveness as a
national marker as a result of flows of cultural goods, media, technology, and
information (Featherstone, 1995; Appadurai, 1996). These flows and mobilities,
to varying degrees, homogenise national cultures along the nation-state lines.
Concurring with this argument, I further read these flows as a component of new
geographies of forces that compete with the forces exerted by national cultural
regimes. Therefore, I argue that the homogenisation dimension of national
cultures cannot be ignored in the cultural cosmopolitanism thesis by an
overemphasis on transnational cultural contrasts.
In addition, Hannerz (2006) cautions that whereas there are those who can be
labelled ‘cosmopolitan’, there are also those who are ‘un-cosmopolitan’. Here,
cosmopolitan as an adjective describes the outcome of the processes of
cosmopolitanisation. Hence, the distinction between cosmopolitanism as a process
and being cosmopolitan as an outcome is introduced. Thus, several questions are
called into attention. What happens in the processes of cosmopolitan encounters
that may enable cultural openness or result in cultural closure? What comes after
the cultural mixing, co-existence or cultural closure? Skrbiš and Woodward
(2013) point out the need to engage empirically with the way in which
cosmopolitan encounters produce meaning and impact on personal identities.
To answer their call, in this paper I focus on exploring the link between
cosmopolitan encounters, cosmopolitan engagement and the formation of a
cosmopolitan or un-cosmopolitan identity. I develop cosmopolitan theses along
the axis of rationalities associated with cosmopolitanisation processes within a
more complicated configuration of power, or the geographies of forces in
transnationality. The theoretical tools—mediation/power duality and cultural
logics—are thus employed to explore the specific configuration of individual
geographies of forces, to locate and identify the cultural logics/rationalities of
Chinese international students.
Methodology
To tackle the theoretical questions listed above, this study employed semi-
structured, in-depth interviews as the major data collection method. In my
interviews, I explored Chinese students’ and school teachers’ construction of
school ethos, and, in particular, the Chinese students’ use and experience of elite
school culture and its well-roundedness tenet in Melbourne.
From December of 2010 to May 2011, I interviewed 12 Chinese students and
seven staff members from the senior sector of the school. Teachers were
interviewed once, for up to 30 minutes. The Chinese international students were
interviewed two or three times, with each interview running from 40 to 60
minutes. Students were asked about their schooling experiences, in particular,
their involvement in school sport and other co-curricular activities, and their
interactions with their local peers.
I also used other data collection methods to complement, further inform and
elucidate these interviews. For these Chinese international students, I organised a
focus group discussion before individual interviews started. After finishing all
individual interviews with students, I asked them follow-up questions via phone
calls and emails.
In what follows, I will start with teachers’ understanding of its well-roundedness
school ethos. Then the focus will move to Chinese students’ mediations of this
ethos and the school orchestrated cultural space.
Teachers’ Construction of the Well-Roundedness Ethos

Beachton Grammar is a co-educational school about 20 kilometres from
Melbourne’s central business district. It offers programmes from kindergarten to
Year 12. When I carried on this study at the end of 2010, Beachton Grammar
had 1,197 students and charged an annual fee of $21,358 per annum for local
students in Years 11 and 12. In the same year level, for international students, the
annual fees were $27,222. Contrasting these fees, in Australia, the minimum
wage was $30,643 and the median income was $44,146 in 2010 (Kenway, 2013,
p. 16).
38 Yujia Wang
Apart from being a high-fee independent school, Beachton Grammar’s index

of community socio-educational advantage (SEA) can be categorised as a high
SEA status. The official national government website My school, established by the
Labor Government to make school profiles transparent and accessible to all,
outlines four SEA statuses, namely, top quarter, second top quarter, bottom
quarter and second bottom quarter. According to My School, 59% of its total
enrolments came from the top quarter, and 87% were in the top half, with only
3% coming from the bottom quarter.
On its official website, Beachton Grammar presents itself as a school offering
a well-rounded education. This is featured by an emphasis on strong academic
programmes as well as extensive co-curricular choices in sport, arts, debating,
music, and drama. In my interviews with six teachers and the school principal,
well-roundedness is frequently mentioned. For example, Natasha, the Marketing
Manager, gives quite a representative explanation of the school’s ethos of
‘well-roundedness’,
What our school is trying to do is that it looks at the whole person, not just
somebody who is a student, like a person who’s learning something, in
terms of in the classroom writing, reading, arithmetic, that’s important,
that’s a given. You just have to do that. What this school tries to do is that
all that learning, plus all the other things make up a really great person
which is personal self-satisfaction, maybe sport, art or music. Everybody
has a talent, whether it is inside or outside the classroom … I would say
welfare and wellbeing of the children are paramount.
This notion of ‘well-roundedness’ capitalises on “the whole wellbeing of the

child”. It firstly prescribes the cultural way of being a “really great person”, who
is supposed to be capable of “all the other things”, namely a talent in co-curricular
programmes of sport, art or music, as well as academic learning. In other words,
the school’s ‘well-roundedness’ legitimates certain cultural practices, such as sport
and music.
According to the teachers, ‘well-roundedness’ also involves a reflexive self-
appreciation of these cultural attainments or cultural inculcation in terms of
‘personal satisfaction’, a link between legitimated cultural practice and the
introspection of the self. Instead of emphasising what English (2009, p. 99) calls
‘co-curricular cultural capital’ as a selling point, Beachton Grammar weaves these
coercive, middle-class cultural practices of inculcation into attractive narratives of
‘pastoral care’ and self-care imperatives. Self-care, according to Sonia, a staff
member working in the area of school publications, is about the students “with a
really broad knowledge of who they are” and are “confident in who they are”.
Another important aspect of this well-roundedness ethos is about ‘life skills’.
Beachton Grammar encourages its students to experience life, to better understand
the self and be better prepared for an independent life. ‘Life skills’, overlapping
with self-care skills, such as time-management and leadership capacity, are all
marketable skills that can advantageously position students to compete in the job
market. The emphasis on cultivation by students of self-care skills is embedded in
and communicates a neoliberal moral ethics that stresses the importance of self-
responsibility for market-oriented self-making.
To enforce and inscribe the school ethos of well-roundedness, Beachton
Grammar relies on its well-structured co-curriculum as a culture-imposing
operation. It strictly monitors students’ participation in such programmes. The
school’s practice supports Bourdieu’s (1984) argument that the co-curriculum
constitutes the very fabric of the non-scholastic, legitimated, school culture. In
some studies, schools’ curricula and co-curriculum offer manifest a neoliberalising,
market logic (English, 2009; Horne et al, 2011). That is, schools assign significant
market value to the knowledge and skills they are to impart and cultivate in
students, positioning students advantageously for future professional success.
Although the teachers I interviewed do not hint at this logic behind their
construction of the well-roundedness ethos, on the school’s website, such a link
between well-roundedness and future career success has been made.
Several questions are thus called into attention: How do Chinese students
interpret the tenet of well-roundedness? How do they construct the usefulness of
the cultural space Beachton Grammar purposefully carves and strictly monitors?
How do they experience this cultural space and explore these cultural activities
and programmes? The following section will focus on answering these questions.
Students’ Cultural Mediation of Well-Roundedness and Cultural

Identities Constructed
A Coherent Geographically Embedded Cultural Identity Consolidated

Rose and Cindy come to Australia to fulfil their respective university dreams.
They never link co-curricular activities at Beachton Grammar to the idea of well-
roundedness. They simply have to attend Physical Education (PE) class and
Saturday sport, believing that sports are for fun and for keeping fit. In addition,
they regard their involvement in sport as the only compulsive venue to
communicate, socialise, and play with their local peers, and they see it as the only
window through which to have a glimpse of the local culture. According to
them, in Beachton Grammar, the Chinese international students and local
students tend to separate and mix with their own group on other occasions. In
one word, their cultural logic is to use sports to achieve their socialising goal and
to incorporate some non-native culture along the way.
Equating sport fields to the socialising arena, they feel that they are excluded.
Their node of mediation revolves around the experience of exclusion. Cindy
says of her basketball class,
40 Yujia Wang
Like we play basketball in PE class, local students exclude overseas students.

Even when they see you, they treat you as if you were not in their team,
and pass the ball to their other teammates. Feels like they think we are no
good players, actually we aren’t. If they happen to pass me the ball
unexpectedly, I immediately pass it to someone else.
Cindy and Rose construct a notion of local sport culture to understand and
explain their experience of basketball court exclusion. The local sport culture is
mediated in terms of values and meanings, such as that local girls are serious in
sport, doing their best and are motivated to win. Consequently, Cindy and Rose
see their failure to contribute to the team as a shame on themselves. But it has a
cost for them to take up these values. The sheer bodily gap in stamina and strength
built on different sport trajectories overwhelms Cindy and Rose. What is more,
the local girls’ sport culture makes them worry about their safety on the sport
field.
Rose: Like we played soccer in class, they asked me to defend the goal.
One girl shot the ball and it hit my legs several times and sprang back. My
legs hurt like crazy!
Cindy: Sometimes when these girls run, they have difficulty stopping and
end up bumping into you. They just run with all their might.
Cindy and Rose’s mediation of a sport-crazy and tough-bodied sort of Australian

youthful femininity as a new set of values bring about knowledge, but not
necessarily endorsement. Even identifying with these values will not change the
fact that they are virtually excluded from cultural participation at school. Out of
safety concerns, embarrassment for not being able to contribute and awkwardness
felt from being excluded, Cindy and Rose retreat from joining local peers in
combative sports. They choose sport that they are comfortable with and they feel
good at playing. But this gives rise to another concern for Cindy,
Sometimes in PE class, the teacher suggests that we play badminton. But

the local girls react like, why badminton? We want to play footy … China
takes the lead in these sports [badminton and table-tennis] and Australia is
not keen on them.
It is worth noting that in this school, co-curricular programmes are culturally

hierarchical around the local/overseas distinction. Sports are nationalised as
‘mainstream Australian sports’, and as ‘Chinese sports’. This labelling of sport
becomes a commonsensical practice which the interviewed students, local and
overseas alike, are quite aware of. This local/overseas sport hierarchy can be
demonstrated in local students taking the initiative in sport choice in PE class,
while international students are at the bottom of this bargaining power hierarchy.
The school’s differentiation of sport in terms of nationality and the prioritisation
of local sports on the basis of a sport cultural hierarchy assign local sport a form of
symbolic capital. When the school favours ‘local’ over ‘overseas’, it exercises an
act of ‘symbolic violence’ (Bourdieu, 1984) to Chinese international students
who are disadvantageously positioned in this cultural hierarchy. This is where the
national espoused sport and sport culture is rendered structural to Cindy and
Rose.
Such PE class interactions prevent Cindy and Rose’s cultural participation,
obstruct their cultural mediation and endorsement, and contribute to sport field
exclusion along national lines. The girls are forced to fall back on their favourite
Chinese sport. A process of cultural membership labelling happens in a two-way
fashion and reinforces the Chinese–Australia dichotomy.
When the sheer cultural difference takes the form of cultural hierarchies along
national lines and is structurally felt, cultural rationalities revolving around the
fairness of the cultural system flare. Emotions erupt. Transcultural communications
fail. Accordingly, Chinese/local dichotomy is constructed and a sense of
nationality has been awakened. Their Chinese identity has been reinforced.
Deprived of cosmopolitan conditions, Cindy and Rose have nothing to add to
their cultural identities but the reified sense of cultural difference carved out of
national dichotomy.
Frank understands that a well-rounded student should not only excel at
academic performance but also have some hobbies and interests. In his definition,
a hobby is a pastime. It is for fun, for self-satisfaction, for inner peace, for
friendship, and for adding a talent to his profile. In particular, a hobby stands for
personality, free choice, self-motivation, and taking initiatives. But in Beachton
Grammar, Frank finds that his personal hobbies are strictly monitored. He
elaborates,
Sometimes I play basketball just because it is a fine day, or because I am

bored and want to have some fun with my classmates … Before when I
played basketball with my classmates, we decided when and where to play
it. But our school is like, you must do this and you cannot do that. When
you have your freedom constrained, your hobbies are the prices you pay …
This school offers us some music programmes, but there are too many
conditions attached ... Like you have to practise in your spare time at least
twice or three times a week. You have to perform to compete with other
students. That’s far from what I really want. I enjoy the process of learning
to play a musical instrument, but I have no interest in performing in front
other people or in winning an award … Once you are bundled by these
‘treaties’, your hobbies turn out to be a commitment, a responsibility, and
a must.
42 Yujia Wang
Frank believes that the school uses ‘hobbies’ to lure students into commitment
traps. Deprived of freewill and initiative, he feels coerced to participate in the
school orchestrated cultural space. He is strongly against the competitiveness and
exhibitionism associated with what he believes to be a personal or even a private
hobby. His cultural decipher and problematisation result in ethical negation
rather than endorsement or appreciation.
His experience in sport involves a lot of cultural deciphering, too. Frank
endorses the ‘fit’ body as part and parcel of Australian youthful masculinity. But
sports field encounters turn his appreciation of the strong bodies into negation of
the local masculinity. He problematises the way local boys use their strong bodies
as an advantage and how the Australian basketball rules unfairly prioritise bodily
toughness. He complains,
The local boys are sturdy and tough … However good our basketball
techniques, we are no match because they go charging around the court. I
had six pairs of glasses broken … The way local boys play basketball is
similar to the way they play footy. The referee takes it for granted. So when
charging happens, the referee seldom gets his whistle out. When the referee
does blow the whistle, the penalty is too light. Basketball is an imported
sport in Australia, so the rules of a basketball match are not strictly carried
out. But in China we don’t take them lightly ... The local boys are wild and
they seem to have an untamed and uncivilised strength in their bodies.
Sometimes it turns out to be a physical bully on the sports field. It’s just like
when an intellectual confronts with a soldier, and there is no room for
reasoning. In the end they have to fight each other physically.
This is an example of how different basketball culture and nationed masculinities

have entered the cultural hierarchy scheme and become a structure-laden issue.
Frank’s cultural logics turn ethical when challenging the Australian basketball
culture as a form of structural inequality. The value clashes regarding different
versions of masculinities and sports culture become a dead-end structural issue
which he rejects without hesitation.
Is Frank cosmopolitanised? He demonstrates the ability and competence to
decipher another culture, which is the capacity to learn about other cultures
highlighted by Hannerz (2006). But, he lacks what Hannerz calls ‘the core of
cultural cosmopolitanism’, namely “the ability to make one’s way into other
cultures, and the appreciative openness toward divergent cultural experiences”
(Hannerz, 2006, p. 13). Contrary to Rizvi’s (2005) argument that transnationality
cosmopolitanises, in Frank’s case, transnationality is a re-territorialising process.
Frank’s case highlights the limitations of cosmopolitanisation. In the cultural
space manipulated and monitored by Beachton Grammar, Frank interprets the
intercultural difference as different cultural ethics. China and Australia are
constructed as cultural units of irreconcilable opposites. He problematises this
space as a localised cultural hierarchy. Consequently, for Frank, the intercultural

difference becomes a site of problematisation, leading to his informed cultural
rejection. Frank retains a coherent Chinese cultural identity, as China is mobilised
as legitimated cultural and ethical moorings of his sense of self.
A Simultaneous Cultural Identity

Without giving a thought to well-roundedness, Jack enjoys co-curricular
programmes provided by the school. He uses this cultural space to fulfil his
basketball dream. School sport can be considered as ‘masculinity vortexes’, and in
particular, competitive team sports “are important in the wider culture as symbols
of masculinity” (Connell, 2008, p. 137). Jack’s mediation node catches a different
form of masculinity,
The difference is that in China we play basketball with our brains, while in
Australia, the locals play basketball with their muscles. They do not value
basketball techniques.
The dyad wen–wu (cultural attainment–martial valour) advanced by Louie (2002)

can be used to understand Jack’s dichotomised constructs of masculinities between
the Chinese males and his Australian counterparts. According to Louie (2002, p.
4), “wen refers to a whole range of attributes such as literary excellence, civilised
behaviour, and general education while wu refers to just as many different sets of
descriptors, including powerful physique, fearlessness and fighting skills”. He
argues that different manifestations and implications of the wen–wu dyad are “a
defining feature of Chinese masculinity” subject to socio-historical change
(Louie, 2002). Jack acknowledges this brainy-type of Chinese masculinity. In the
meanwhile, he comes to terms with the “muscle” type of Australian masculinity,
which Connell (2008, p. 140) observes as involving “a certain level of physical
confrontations and (legal) violence”.
To cope with the bodily confrontations on the basketball court, Jack resorts to
a heavy bodybuilding project. He spends an average of two hours playing
basketball and extra hours on exercises such as push-ups, sit-ups, and squats to
build up his muscles. In pursuit of his basketball dream, he also ventures out of
his cultural comfort zone, joining the school basketball team as the only Chinese
international student and, indeed, as the only Asian background student. He
immerses himself in the micro basketball team life congested with language
barriers, different basketball cultures and some taunts and jibes once in a while.
Therefore, Jack’s processual cultural identity project involves cultural
endorsement and incorporation. His cultural cosmopolitanisation takes place in
his act of fearless, consistent, cultural participation.
Natalie and Jane are confident high-achievers. They use the school’s
co-curricular programmes and activities as a venue to socialise with their local
44 Yujia Wang
peers. They aspire for a harmonious social life, wanting to fit in the new cultural
landscape and making local friends. However, their intercultural communication
is not smooth. The poignant sense of inadequacy and inability in their transcultural
communications is revealed in their talk about their partying experiences with
local friends, which resonates so much with their socialising experiences with
local peers at school.
Natalie: I attended a friend’s birthday party. She was born here so she has
many local friends. I went to such local parties a couple of times. It is really
boring and frustrating, just cannot find the topic. I am a very extroversive,
easy-going girl, always ready to talk. But I suddenly become the most
reticent one among the Aussie girls.
Jane: Yes, it is really because of the cultural difference. Their topics simply
cannot match ours. Boys crack strange jokes that we just don’t get them.
They will talk about footy. Girls love talking about their friends, just
gossips. We don’t have a clue whom they are talking about. Just cannot
communicate.
Their statements demonstrate the difficulty of in-depth cosmopolitanisation. The

intimate cultural knowledge about jokes, social mores and joint friendship circle
constitutes a big barrier to their cultural cosmopolitanisation in intercultural
socialising arenas. To make matters worse, Jane and Natalie seldom engage with
Australia’s media culture as a source of intercultural input. They show little
interest in Australian media culture.
Jane’s and Natalie’s case prompts us to ask, how far can cultural
cosmopolitanisation go? Intercultural communication involves more than a
‘banal’ form of cosmopolitanism, like tasting non-native food. Intercultural
barriers and differences do exist. Such differences beg for intercultural competence
and knowledge. And, strong emotions are involved in intercultural
communications. The two girls feel culturally alienated, totally out of place,
frustrated, and their Chinese cultural identities are consequently awakened and
reinforced on the route to cosmopolitanisation. I argue that cultural
cosmopolitanisation and the assertion of cultural membership co-exist in this
case; the more they try to cosmopolitanise, the more aware they are of their
cultural roots and moorings.
Phil has always been a versatile student. He is a straight A student with a lot
of talents in sport and music. But in China his talents went unnoticed because his
school only cared about students’ academic performance. He believes in well-
roundedness and embodies this ethos in his self-making project. He finds the
co-curricular programmes at Beachton Grammar an appealing stage to showcase
his talents. It is worth noting that Phil possesses some talents such as in music
composition, singing, and swimming, which are transferable in the Australian
context. More importantly, he takes pride in showing his talents, which gives
him great self-satisfaction.
Phil also uses this school orchestrated cultural space to learn non-native
cultural knowledge and making local friends. His cultural logic is that any culture,
whether Chinese, global, or Australian, is knowledge. There is no sense of right
or wrong, or cultural superiority in culture itself. He treats culture as neutral, and
the cultural take-up is only personal preference. He believes that cultural learning
facilitates interpersonal communications, but it is not necessary to go to great
lengths to follow suit or take up others’ cultural preference or tastes. This view is
particularly self-evident in his co-curricular choices at school,
I never play footy; it’s too dangerous. I do soccer, [but] basketball no,
maybe because of the height (laugh). I love going to gym both here and in
China. I love swimming because I used to be part of a local swimming
team [in China] … I specialise in butterfly stroke. I am just showing off [to
my Aussie classmates].
Phil also uses co-curricular activities as an opportunity to accumulate non-native

cultural capital or cosmopolitan capital. In the meanwhile without dwarfing his
native cultural capital he uses these cultural activities as a venue to showcase his
unique Chinese talent and turn his Chinese cultural capital into a cosmopolitan
form of cultural capital. He regards this intercultural difference as a form of
knowledge, even when they are framed in China/Australia duality,
We (Chinese students) are good at sports like pingpong [and] badminton.

We know how to use small techniques to be faster, to be better. So I teach
my Aussie friends how to use these techniques.
Believing in cultural learning, Phil is eager to de-construct the Australia/Chinese

dichotomy. In his process of cultural learning, similarities can be shared, and
differences can be exchanged. His intercultural communication is a two-way
process that involves both cultural learning and cultural teaching between him
and his local peers in the school.
In addition, the global youth culture also facilitates Phil’s two-way inter-
cultural communication. His geographically transferable skills in piano and
butterfly stroke draw him close to his local peers. As ‘scaped’ pop culture
cosmopolitanises young people globally, he and his local peers share common
media consumption tastes. Unlike Jane and Natalie, the inter-cultural barriers are
not salient in Phil’s case. He feels that local boys, rather than his Chinese
counterparts at the elite school, are more like-minded persons.
Phil’s cultural identity undergoes intercultural cosmpolitanisation.
Cosmopolitanisation is extended in this sense beyond Szerszynski and Urry’s
(2002) notion of cosmopolitanism as a way of learning through cultural take-up
46 Yujia Wang
and cultural absorption or incorporation. Cosmopolitanisation is a two-way

process involving cultural dissemination as well. In addition, Phil’s view of
culture as a form of knowledge makes his cultural emplacement a neutral one,
free of conflicts and problematisation. Therefore, his cultural identity takes the
form of ‘simultaneity’, a harmonious combination and incorporation of two
nationed cultures.
To sum up, Jane, Natalie, Jack and Phil embrace the idea of being open to other
cultures. However, their attitude originates from different but not necessarily self-
conscious rationalities. For Jane and Natalie, their in-depth cultural cosmopolitanism
involves the processes of value deciphering, negotiation, and mediation in making
sense of their former cultured self. Their case supports the argument that
transnational cultural difference, when deciphered in terms of values, poses
questions for the intimate or committed cosmopolitanism because value
incorporation is not always frictionless. For Jack, his practices of cultural
incorporation are unconscious, without mediation among specific power registers.
For Phil, cultural cosmopolitanism is free from power registers, as non-native
culture is approached as knowledge. Jane, Natalie, Jack, and Phil are therefore in
varied processes of cultural cosmopolitanisation, which is featured by cultural
identity transformation and reification by both detachment from and attachment to
their Chinese cultural anchoring. Their cultural incorporation does not necessarily
come with their giving-up or negation of their Chinese cultural anchorage.
Conclusion
My analysis focused on exploring students’ cultural logics in relation to how they
use and experience the well-roundedness ethos and the school culture orchestrated
by an elite Australian school. It is revealed that well-roundedness as a form of elite
capital and as a tenet that guides and orchestrates Beachton Grammar’s
co-curricular programmes and school culture is linked to a sense of middle-
classness by teachers. But these teachers do not link this middle-class cultural
reproduction to an ongoing, secured class privilege in the job market.
I also engaged with the question of how far this elite form of cultural capital
can go in the transnational context. I asked whether elite school cultural capital
can be de-contextualised and stripped of its cultural embeddedness of
geographically located education and assumed to be ‘universal’/‘global’
knowledge or a form of cosmopolitan capital (Weenink, 2008). Obviously,
Chinese students regard the well-roundedness ethos as a localised practice
complemented by a prioritised Australian cultural programme. As Chinese
students do not make direct connections between well-roundedness and a future
class privilege, nor do they harbour a geographical mobility future aspiration,
they fail to take a capital approach to well-roundedness.
In response to the theoretical linkage between sport-related capital such as
strong, competitive, healthy bodies and future class privilege (Bourdieu, 1984;
Connell, 2008; Horne et al., 2011; O’Flynn & Lee, 2010; Shilling, 2004; Warde,
2006), neither teachers nor students in my study make such a direct connection. In
particular for Chinese students, school co-curricular programmes provide them an
arena for fun, for relaxation, for forging friendship and for being part of the school
community. Although some students decipher and appreciate the well-roundedness
ethos, they mediate it more in an ethical lens than in an instrumentalist perspective.
In relation to the theorisation of youthful cultural identities in geographical
mobility, I hinged on the question of how students react to intercultural difference
in transcultural immersion. In so doing, I not only examined the question of non-
native culture incorporation by attending to the rationalities and emotions
involved in such practice of incorporation, but investigated the rationalities and
emotions of non-native culture rejection as well.
I enhanced the cultural cosmopolitan theses by demarcating a range of nuanced
rationalities. Theoretically, along with the humanity perspective and the
instrumentalist cultural logics, I added an ethical perspective that relates to the
question of what constitutes a good life intersected with personal cultural choices in
transnationality. In this way, I developed the theorisation of cultural cosmopolitanism
along the cosmopolitanism/power duality. I also put forward the notion of in-depth
cosmopolitanism against Hannerz’s (1990) theorisation of cultural cosmopolitanism,
by revealing the mediation processes of cultural cosmopolitanisation.
Furthermore, I drew attention to the question of ‘cosmopolitanisation failures’,
pointing out the structural factors involved in transcultural contexts, highlighting
the emotions and rationalities behind such non-native cultural rejection. I paid
heed to the difficulty and cultural needs of in-depth cosmopolitanisation.
To do so, I delineated cultural difference in terms of cultural contradictions,
cultural dissimilarity (dissimilar but not oppositional), or cultural add-ons (having
no equivalent counterpart in the culture of origin) from an individual’s past
cultural repertoire, to highlight the process of cultural cosmopolitanisation.
Lastly, I have extended Ong’s notion of cultural logics by delineating the uses
of culture and the experiences of culture and made an analytical linkage between
the two. This chapter theoretically goes beyond the deconstruction of a
territorialised notion of culture and engages with the de-territorialising of
geographies of meanings, values and ethics under the geographies of power
regimes and forces. I have delineated the geographies of forces exerting influences
at national and global levels, and checked whether Chinese students could break
loose from the power wielded by their nation-state of origin and the nation-state
of displacement.
In so doing I enhanced the cultural cosmopolitanism thesis, while most
importantly, developed theorisations of cultural identities through differentiating
between the forces that exert their effect within and beyond nation-state
boundaries. I have led the theorisation of cultural identities to the frames of
geographies of cultural identity to understand fully the cultural identities in
transnational mobility.
48 Yujia Wang
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3
THE EMERGENCE OF ELITE
INTERNATIONAL BACCALAUREATE
DIPLOMA PROGRAMME SCHOOLS
IN CHINA
A ‘Skyboxification’ Perspective
Moosung Lee, Ewan Wright, and Allan Walker
Introduction
In this chapter we focus on International Baccalaureate (IB) schools as an emerging
sub-sector of elite schooling in China. Over the past decade, IB schools, in
general, and International Baccalaureate Diploma Programme (IBDP) schools, in
particular, have expanded rapidly across countries in Asia. As examples, in China
and India the number of IBDP schools has rapidly increased from below 10 in
2000 to 67 and 99 in 2014, respectively (IB, 2014a). While there are a number of
factors that have shaped such a fast growth of IBDP schools in the region, one of
the key factors seems to be that IBDP schools have succeeded in creating a brand
that presents high-quality preparation for university entrance and international
mobility through a rigorous curriculum and progressive pedagogy. This
organisational image has been increasingly accepted by stakeholders such as
students, parents, universities, and the mass media more broadly in the region (see
Doherty, 2009).
At the same time, the brand of the IB as a form of elite schooling offering
high-quality preparation for entrance to internationally reputable universities is
more than just an image. Indeed, the high performance of IBDP graduates in
university entrance has been evidenced in recent studies. For example, our study
(Lee et al., 2014) targeting the vast majority of IBDP schools in China found that
three out of four IBDP graduates during the period between 2002 and 2012 were
admitted to one of the world’s top 500 universities, while almost one-third
(30.0%) were admitted to one of the top 50 ranked universities. This high
performance of IBDP graduates in China in relation to university entrance can be
applauded and appreciated, given the relatively short history of IBDP schools in
China compared to that of other countries or regions.
The Emergence of Elite IBDP Schools in China 51
Nevertheless, there are growing concerns emerging from such a success. IBDP
schools that equip students with the tools for potential entry to prestigious
universities worldwide are increasingly an option in China only for those who can
afford it. While the exclusiveness of elite schools has been well researched in
settings such as the USA (Weis, Cipollone & Jenkins, 2014), the UK (Donnelly,
2014) and Singapore (Koh, 2014), there remains a gap in the literature exploring
the emergence of elite international IBDP schools in China. This is significant
given that IBDP schools remain accessible to an especially selective population in
China in terms of legal and financial perspectives.1 Specifically, IBDP schools in
China are an option only for foreign passport holders who can afford to pay
approximately US$30,000 per student for an annual tuition fee, plus additional
charges such as annual capital fees (Wright & Lee, 2014a).
Given that the gross national income per capita in China was US$5,720 in 2012
(World Bank, 2014a), arguably, students in and graduates from IBDP schools in
China are very selective sub-populations. Indeed, this chapter will suggest that
many international IBDP schools in China can be identified as elite schools due to
sharing characteristics identified in the existing literature on elite schools. This
includes selective admission procedures, provision of first-rate educational resources,
emphasis on character development, and social prestige (see Gaztambide-Fernández,
2009) that enable their students to “stay ahead of the game” in university applications
and labour market transitions (Kenway & Fahey, 2014, p. 177).
The concern—i.e., educational advantage to small, selective sub-populations—
gets more serious when we consider potential or real divides between those IBDP
schools in China and people and communities in the host society. Our recent
studies (Lee et al., 2014; Wright & Lee, 2014b) found that the potential of the
IBDP to foster so-called 21st-century skills such as inter-cultural understanding and
open-mindedness, which are core goals of the IB, among IB students and other
social, cultural and economic groups in China could be substantively constrained.
While IBDP schools are equipped with the IB Learner Profile and Creativity,
Action, Service (CAS),2 teachers, administrators, and students recognise tensions
when it comes to the implementation of these components of the programme in
results oriented school cultures of international IBDP schools in China.
In this chapter, we have two goals. First, we aim to demonstrate the
aforementioned findings in detail with empirical data—i.e., by tracking the
extent to which IBDP graduates in China have been successful in university
entrance and identifying if IBDP graduates are disconnected and separated from
their host society. Second, more importantly, we aim to draw implications of
such socio-economic, cultural, and physical divides between IBDP schools and
the host society with the conceptual lens of ‘skyboxification’. As we will discuss
in detail, Michael Sandel (2012) coined the term of skyboxification in order to
describe the polarisation of American life caused by marketisation of public and
civic spheres where people of diverse backgrounds rarely interact. As Sandel
(2012) noted, in an increasingly market-based society—where money can buy
52 Moosung Lee, Ewan Wright, and Allan Walker
more and more things—people from different socio-economic and cultural

backgrounds are living increasingly separated civic lives, including in the realm of
education (cited in Wright & Lee, 2014a). Within this context, we aim to explore
how we can conceptualise the emergence of elite IBDP schools in China from
the perspective of Sandel’s skyboxification.
This chapter consists of four parts. First, we will briefly review elite schooling
in China to establish the context of this study. This will be followed by an
introduction of the concept of skyboxification. Second, we will outline empirical
data, based on four different types of datasets. Third, drawing from the multiple
data sources, we will demonstrate substantial divides between elite international
IBDP schools and local schools and communities in China with regards to
organisational status and practices. Finally, we present a number of implications
of the findings for research, practice and policy.
Elite Schooling in China

Over the previous decade China has overseen a rapid expansion of secondary
level education. Between 2002 and 2012 the percentage of the relevant age group
enrolled in secondary education increased from 59% to 89% (World Bank,
2014b). While this expansion has undoubtedly increased educational opportunities,
recent years have also witnessed a growth of elite schools in both the national and
international schooling sectors. This has important implications for educational
equity and for the promotion of inter-cultural understanding and open-
mindedness among students in China.
Firstly, at the national level elite schooling includes a concentration of
investment in a limited number of what have been termed “key schools” (OECD,
2011) or “exemplary schools” (Zhao, 2014). These elite schools are often given
preferable treatment by educational authorities in terms of being offered
“additional resources and assigned better teachers” (OECD, 2011, p. 95) and
having priority over “matriculation of top-performing students on standardized
assessments” (Wu, 2014, p. 2).
Reflecting this, studies have shown that students in elite schools are more
successful relative to ‘ordinary schools’ in terms of overall academic achievement,
applications to top ranking universities, and over the course of their working
careers (Lin, 2009; OECD, 2011; Zhang, 2013). There is often, therefore, fierce
competition to gain admission to elite schools. This process remains largely
determined by student performance in high stakes assessments, location of
residence, and by lottery systems of admission (Zhang, 2013). Nevertheless, there
have been reports about a high concentration of students from high socio-
economic groups from urban areas in elite schools (Wu, 2014; Zhang, 2013;
Zhao, 2014). For instance, Zhao notes that elite schools are largely limited to
those with the financial and social capital to navigate the admissions process, for
example by purchasing property in elite school catchment areas (Zhao, 2014).
Secondly, another growth area of elite schools in China has been in the
international schooling sector. There is ongoing debate about how international
schools should be defined (see Hayden & Thompson, 2008) with evidence of
increasing diversity among international schools around the world (see Bunnell,
2014). For the purpose of this chapter, the IBDP schools under investigation are
deemed international schools due to their student demographics, English medium
of instruction, and offering of an international educational programme (i.e., the
IBDP). As previously noted, the number of schools offering the IBDP in China
has grown at a rapid pace in recent years. For example, the first IBDP was
implemented at the International School of Beijing in 1991. As of 2014, the
number of schools authorised to run the IBDP in China reached 67, representing
a sevenfold increase since 2014.
On the one hand, this expansion of IBDP schools, alongside other types of
international schools in China, has been facilitated by a relaxation of government
policy, especially since the turn of the 21st century. Notably, China’s National
Outline for Medium- and Long-Term Education Reform and Development
(2010–2020) outlined efforts to increase cooperation with international education
providers, including attracting international schools (Ministry of Education,
2010, p. 36).
On the other hand, the strong presence of international schools reflects
growing demand for these schools from populations in China. In contrast to
other parts of East Asia where this demand increasingly stems from the local socio-
economic elite (see Brummitt & Keeling, 2013; Hayden & Thompson, 2008;
Kenway & Koh, 2013), in China growth has been driven by non-Chinese
nationals. This reflects legal restrictions on international schools enrolling Chinese
passport holders (KPMG, 2010). As a result, international school students in
China are predominantly globally mobile expatriates or students of Chinese
heritage with overseas passports (Lee et al., 2014).
However, in both cases the attraction is largely due to a perception that
international schools offer a distinct and superior education to national schools.
This includes many of the perceived benefits offered by national elite schools
around the world such as selective admissions procedures, provision of first-rate
educational resources (i.e., facilities, teacher–student ratios, highly trained and
qualified staff, and extra-curricular activities), emphasis on character development
(i.e., communication and leadership skills) and social prestige (see Gaztambide-
Fernández, 2009). In addition, the research has identified that the international
nature of such schools is perceived to offer further advantages to national schools
in terms of an English medium of instruction (Brummitt & Keeling, 2013), liberal
educational approaches (Ng, 2013), ‘transnational capital’ associated with a
globalised student body and orientation (Kenway & Koh, 2013), and access to
international programmes, such as the IBDP (Lee, Hallinger & Walker, 2012a).
Arguably, elite international schools are more likely than national elite schools
in China to have a student body consisting of those from high socio-economic
backgrounds. This is because, as will be outlined in this chapter, school fees

charged by international schools in China are among the highest in East Asia, if
not the world. A consequence is that access to international schools remains
limited to a small and relatively elite minority of the population.
The implications of the concentration of students from high socio-economic
backgrounds at both national and international elite schools in China are
potentially serious. This includes reinforcing societal inequalities by providing
wealthy students with greater opportunities for educational success and admissions
to prestigious higher education institutions (Khan, 2013). Research has
consistently shown that such educational trajectories are often followed by entry
to “the power elite” (Mills, 1956) in China (Qian & Walker, 2011), the USA
(Hayes, 2012), and indeed globally (Sklair, 2001). Moreover, the implications of
this point are arguably given additional weight as such students from elite schools
may have limited opportunities to interact and to develop inter-cultural
understanding with students from other backgrounds (Heyward, 2002; Kenway,
2013; Pearce, 1994). The following sections of this chapter will build on this
latter point to discuss the potential ramifications of this with reference to elite
international IBDP schools in China.
A Skyboxification Perspective
As previously noted, we aim to tap the potential utility and value of Sandel’s term
of skyboxcification in deepening our understanding of the emergence of elite
schooling, particularly international IBDP schools in China. To explain Sandel’s
concept of skyboxification, let us begin with his personal narrative:
When I went to see the Minnesota Twins play in the mid-1960s, the difference
in price between the most expensive seats and the cheapest ones was $2. In
fact, for most of the twentieth century, ball parks were places where corporate
executives sat side by side with blue-collar workers, where everyone waited
in the same lines to buy hot dogs or beer, and where rich and poor alike got
wet if it rained. In the last few decades, however, this has changed. The advent
of skybox suites high above the field of play has separated the affluent and the
privileged from the common folk in the stands below.
(2012, p. 173)
Sandel’s concern is that this kind of segregation between the elite (and/or the
affluent) from the rest of the public has been found throughout the American
society. He calls this the ‘skyboxification of American social life’. The impetus of
this wide-ranging skyboxification stems from rapid marketisation of public
spheres where “[t]he more things money can buy, the fewer the occasions when
people from different walks of life encounter one another” (p. 202). In other
words, in such a market based society “people of affluence and people of modest
means lead increasingly separate lives” (p. 203).
Drawing from moral and political philosophy, Sandel proposes two
fundamental objections against the phenomenon of skyboxification driven by the
market society. Firstly, he raises a concern about fairness and inequality in social
life, fostered by marketisation:
In a society where everything is for sale, life is harder for those of modest
means. The more money can buy, the more affluence (or the lack of it)
matters. If the only advantage of affluence were the ability to afford yachts,
sports cars, and fancy vacations, inequalities of income and wealth would
matter less than they do today. But as money comes to buy more and
more—political influence, good medical care, a home in a safe neighborhood
rather than a crime-ridden one, access to elite schools rather than failing
ones—the distribution of income and wealth looms larger.
(p. 8)
Secondly, Sandel points out “the corrosive tendency of markets” (p. 9). He
argues that putting a high price on goods, especially belonging to civic and public
life such as admission to elite secondary schools and prestigious universities,
erodes the value and alters the nature of such social goods. As examples, legacy
admission, widely practised in prestigious liberal arts colleges and research
universities, without transparency is detrimental to the value of diplomas and the
integrity of university communities. Also, charging high tuition and other
supplementary fees such as capital levies that enable only ‘super-rich’ parents to
secure a place for their children in elite international schools could alter the
nature of education as a social good—i.e., educational activities, including
teachers’ passion and professionalism, in those schools are downgraded to
something that can be purely transactional.
From our perspective, Sandel’s idea of skyboxification is well suited to capture
tensions and concerns about the rapid emergence of elite international IBDP
schools in China, since our data tell a story of physical, socio-economical and
cultural divides between students in IBDP schools in China and the host society.
In the following sections, we will show how IBDP schools in China can be
identified as a case of skyboxification and discuss the implications in terms of
educational research, practices and policy.
Methodology
Research Design
We planned a multi-method study, the phases of which are analytically separate
but conceptually integrated, for the purpose of exploring elite IBDP schools in
China from the perspective of skyboxification. The mixed methods study

employed a sequential explanatory design based on four different datasets gathered
from 2012 to 2013. Specifically, the mixed-method approach included (1)
descriptive statistical analysis of archival data on financial costs of IBDP schools in
East Asia, (2) descriptive statistical analysis of archival data on university
destinations of IBDP graduates from China, (3) qualitative analysis of interview
data from five elite IBDP schools in China, and (4) quantitative analysis of one of
the key attributes in the IB Learner Profile—i.e., open-mindedness.
Data Collection
We utilised four different datasets gathered from three different research projects
on the IB in East Asia. The first dataset was mainly from the IB website and IB
school websites in order to trace the relative financial costs of attending IBDP
schools in Asia. We investigated school fees charged by all IBDP schools across
12 metropolitan cities. The cities included Bangkok, Beijing, Ho Chi Minh,
Hong Kong, Jakarta, Kuala Lumpur, Manila, Seoul, Shanghai, Singapore, Taipei,
and Tokyo. To this end, we identified the annual tuition fees charged and
additional fees such capital levies for the IBDP students in the 2012/13 academic
year. The schools were identified using the “Find an IB world school” resource
on the IB website (IB, 2014a). To obtain details of relevant school fees, the
research team undertook a detailed investigation of each of the schools’ websites
and contacted school admissions departments directly when required.
To build the second dataset, focusing on the university destinations of IBDP
graduates from China, a mass email was sent out to all IBDP schools operating in
China as of 2012 (i.e., 43 IBDP schools). As a result of a follow-up through email
correspondence, registered mail letters, and long distance phone calls over a
period of three months, we obtained information about university destinations of
1,612 IBDP graduates from 14 schools in China during the period between 2002
and 2012 (cf. Lee et al., 2014).
Following the data collection of university destinations, we collected interview
data from administrators, teachers, and students in five high-performing IBDP
schools in China. In total, 44 interviewees were involved in this data collection.
This included individual semi-structured interviews with head teachers and IBDP
coordinators at each of the five schools, followed by focus groups with a total of
17 students and 17 teachers. The schools were selected due to sharing common
characteristics in terms of being among the leading IBDP schools with regards to
examination results in China, being IBDP-only schools (i.e., not offering the
Primary Years Programme or the Middle Years Programme), and being located
in the metropolitan cities of Beijing and Shanghai. The primary goal of data
collection was to understand how the IBDP is implemented and how it contributes
to university entrance and preparation for students in both academic and non-
academic domains (e.g., inter-cultural understanding) (cf. Lee et al., 2014).
The final dataset was partially borrowed from another large-scale study on the
IB schools in East and South-East Asia, including China (cf. Walker, Bryant &
Lee, 2014). This large-scale study consisted of a pilot study, including 976 IBDP
students from 18 schools and a follow-up main study, including 758 IBDP
students across 29 schools in East Asia. We used the validated survey data of the
IB Learner Profile Questionnaire (IBLPQ) from the pilot study in order to
compare IBDP students in China and other countries in East Asia in terms of the
perception of their capacity to be ‘open-minded’, one of the key IB Learner
Profile attributes reflecting students’ capacity of inter-cultural understanding
(Walker, Lee & Bryant, forthcoming).
Data Analysis
For quantitative data, we used a series of descriptive statistical analyses including
frequency analysis, t-test, and ANOVA. For qualitative data, we developed a
coding scheme based on patterns emerging from the interviews, which were later
reduced into a smaller number of analytical units based on similar themes (Miles
& Huberman, 1994). Nvivo 10 was used for cross-case analysis.
Findings
IBDP Schools as a Vehicle for Entrance to World-Class Universities3

Our archival data showed that the most common university destination for IBDP
graduates was the USA, with over half of the IBDP graduates (51.1%) from 2002
to 2012 attending US universities, followed by the UK (11.4%) and Canada
(10.7%). In terms of university destination by language (i.e., universities in
English speaking countries versus universities in non-English speaking countries),
a vast majority of the IBDP graduates (83.1%) chose universities in English
speaking countries (e.g., USA, UK, Canada, and Australia), and a much smaller
proportion (11.5%) went to university in non-English speaking countries, while
5.4% were classified as ‘others’ or ‘missing’.
Our case study data indicated that university destinations in part reflected the
nationality of the students due to tuition-fee incentives and existing social support
networks. Nevertheless, the popularity of US universities also reflected a
geographical concentration of academically strong institutions that were attractive
to globally mobile IBDP graduates. Indeed, our archival data revealed that 71.6%
of IBDP graduates attended top 500 universities worldwide.4 Further analysis of
the data showed that 30.0% of IBDP graduates enrolled at one of the top 50
ranked universities worldwide and 7.7% entered a top 15 ranked university.
Moreover, the high performance of IBDP schools in China in terms of university
entrance was very stable over 10 years; the median ranking of universities where
IBDP graduates studied was 71. While simplified notions of university rankings
as a proxy for quality have been widely criticised (see Marginson, 2007), such
highly ranked institutions certainly have strong global reputations and can be
understood as the elite brands of higher education.
School Fees in IBDP Schools in China

Despite the high performance of IBDP schools in terms of university entrance of
their graduates to world-class universities, a concern emerges from their high
school fees that are far beyond ordinary people’s affordability in China.
Specifically, Table 3.1 shows the tuition fees across IBDP schools in East and
Southeast Asia. Of the 12 metropolitan cities in East and Southeast Asia, IBDP
schools in Beijing and Shanghai charge the highest tuition fees whereas
international IBDP schools in Manila, Hong Kong and Indonesia charge the
lowest tuition fees. Notably, IBDP schools in Beijing and Shanghai charge more
than their counterparts in Hong Kong, Singapore, and Tokyo, which are some
of the most prosperous places in the world, as is indicated by country-level gross
national income statistics. That is, if we consider the aspect of average incomes,
the tuition fees charged by IBDP schools in Beijing and Shanghai appear to be
relatively more expensive than the face value.
TABLE 3.1 Tuition fees of IBDP schools in major Asian cities (2012–2013)
Rank City Median tuition fees of Number of Country GNI per

IBDP schools (US$) schools capita (US$)
1 Beijing 30,486 11 5,720
2 Shanghai 29,019 16 5,720
3 Seoul 26,399 2 22,670
4 Kuala Lumpur 23,000 4 9,820
5 Ho Chi Minh 20,475 6 1,550
6 Singapore 22,014 17 49,710
7 Taipei 18,348 2 N/A
8 Tokyo 18,000 5 47,870
9 Bangkok 17,661 7 5,210
10 Manila 16,075 5 2,500
11 Hong Kong 14,764 26 36,560
12 Jakarta 10,418 9 3,420
Notes: In this compiled information, several schools were not included due to data inaccessibility;
specifically, two schools in Tokyo, one school in Bangkok, one school in Manila, and four schools
in Jakarta. In addition, we acknowledge that city level IBDP school tuition fee data is not directly
comparable to country-level gross national income statistics.
Source: World Bank (2014a).
In addition, the majority of the IBDP schools in Beijing and Shanghai charge
fees in addition to tuition fees. This includes application fees, registration fees,
deposits, and various forms of non-refundable capital levies. Indeed, if we take
into account these additional charges, the median school fees of IBDP schools in
Beijing and Shanghai for the 2012/13 academic year reached US$36,936 and
US$29,345, respectively. Given that, as Table 3.1 shows, the gross national
income per capita in China equalled US$5,720 in 2012, it is clear that the IBDP
remains accessible to a very small minority of families who not only hold foreign
passports but also have high socio-economic status (cf. Wright & Lee, 2014a). As
a result, IBDP students in China may have limited opportunities to interact with
students from other socio-economic and cultural backgrounds during their
schooling. Moreover, this could be extended to their out-of-school lives by the
language barriers faced by some non-Chinese nationals and that wealthy
expatriates often reside in particular gated communities which can act as ‘foreign
enclaves’ (Wang & Lau, 2008).
The Skyboxification of School Life in Elite IBDP Schools in China5

A central objective of the IBDP is to ensure that graduates are provided with an
internationally validated route to higher education institutions around the world
(IB, 2014d). As has been outlined in this chapter, the IBDP in China has been
successful in this regard over the preceding decade. Indeed, further studies have
identified that the IBDP is held in high esteem by leading universities in countries
including Australia and New Zealand (Coates, Rosicka & MacMahon-Ball,
2007), the UK (Jenkins, 2003) and the USA (Gehring, 2001).
Yet, in addition to this largely instrumental function, the IB also claims that
the IBDP is about providing a uniquely holistic and progressive education.
Notably, the mission statement of IB states that the core purpose is “to develop
inquiring, knowledgeable and caring young people who help to create a better
and more peaceful world through intercultural understanding and respect” (IB,
2014e, emphasis added). The IB notes that this statement is “translated” into
everyday school life through a set of ten Learner Profile outcomes promoted
through the structure of the IBDP curriculum and pedagogical approaches. These
include inquirers, knowledgeable, thinkers, communicators, principled, open-
minded, caring, risk-takers, balanced, and reflective (IB, 2014b).
Reflecting this dual objective, there is a growing literature highlighting that
there are considerable tensions between such a progressive educational philosophy
and more instrumental concerns regarding university admissions, especially as the
IB continue to expand into new educational contexts globally (see Brunold-
Conesa, 2010; Doherty, 2009; Tarc, 2009).
Building on this work, our multi-site case study of five elite IBDP schools
shed light on the relative success of the IB to implement the mission statement
and the Learner Profile in the context of China. Above all, there was consensus
among interviewees across the five case study schools that the Creativity, Action,
Service (CAS) course had significant potential to promote Learner Profile
outcomes such as balanced, caring, communicators, and open-minded. CAS is a
compulsory IBDP course assessed by a pass/fail binary that the IB maintains offers
a “refreshing counterbalance to academic studies”. The ‘Service’ component of
CAS is argued to provide students with opportunities for community engagement
through projects such as “helping children with special needs, visiting hospitals
and working with refugees or homeless people” (IB, 2014c).
Moreover, it was frequently noted that Learner Profile outcomes were related
to the development of inter-cultural understanding that was deemed to have
become highly important for academic and career-related success in an increasingly
integrated world. In this regard, it was reported at three schools that CAS could
be especially valuable for students at elite schools in terms of negating the
potentially negative implications of a ‘skyboxed’ education by promoting inter-
cultural understanding among students and other cultural, economic and social
groups in society. As one teacher argued:
Some of the projects involve working in orphanages and migrant schools. For
our students these are really important because they are very privileged and
could lack understanding of how the other half of the world lives—which is
one of the most important things we need to make sure we teach them.
(Teacher 4, School 3)
Despite this positive narrative, there were concerns about the implementation of
CAS in the context of IBDP schools in China. Above all, this was thought to
stem from the highly competitive and results-oriented culture of the five case
study schools. For example, in describing the students, respondents variously
reported that, “It is cool to work hard at school, that is definitely the culture
here” (Coodinator, School 1), “It is all about taking the next step and entering
the right university so passing the exam is the priority” (Headteacher, School 2),
and “Our kids are not here to go to any kind of tertiary education that isn’t
somewhere not in the top 100 universities in the world” (Coodinator, School 4).
This academic environment was deemed to lead to tensions in the promotion of
authentic engagement in CAS activities. Firstly, while there were examples of
successful CAS projects, it was reported in four of the case schools that students often
neglected CAS relative to other parts of the programme that were perceived to have
a greater bearing on progression to higher education. Indeed, administrators, teachers
and students all reported that many students reduced CAS to a “box-ticking”
exercise and completing the course was often motivated by a desire to bolster
applications as part of “the university admissions game”. As one student described:
I know a lot of students who do CAS because of CAS. I think that is the
main disadvantage of CAS because everyone thinks ‘does this activity count
as CAS?’ or ‘how many hours can I get from this activity?’ So it is more
about getting credit and wanting to pass the IBDP.
(Student 4, School 1)
Secondly, such tensions in implementing CAS in a result-oriented culture were

reported to be heightened by difficulties in assessing student performance in CAS
activities. As a result, it was argued that there were often limited ramifications if
students were suspected of failing to engage in CAS in an authentic manner.
Consequently, the interviewees reported that the benefits of CAS, which include
tackling potentially negative implications of a ‘skyboxed’ education, could not be
guaranteed through participation in the course. As was noted by one headteacher:
You can be suspicious but if someone says, ‘I really enjoyed working with
those disabled kids and it has really changed the way I look at the world
around me,’ what are you going to say, ‘I don’t believe you’?
(Headteacher, School 2)
In addition, respondents in three schools reported that difficulty in promoting

student commitment to CAS was exacerbated by higher education institutions
under-prioritising CAS in the admissions process. An implication of this was that
some students could gain admission to elite higher education institutions without
engaging in CAS in an authentic manner. As one coordinator argued:
Just today one of our students was threatened to have the Diploma removed
from him at this very, very late stage because his CAS portfolio was in an
absolute mess … Now this student, and this brings up the whole idea of
what’s important to universities, got an offer from Oxford. It makes a point
there.
(Coordinator, School 4)
The IBDP and Open-Mindedness in China

To supplement our case study findings, we used the validated survey data of the
IB Learner Profile Questionnaire (IBLPQ)6 based on the findings of a pilot study
(i.e., Walker et al., 2014). This enabled us to compare IBDP students in China
with five different countries in terms of the perception of their capacity to be
‘open-minded’, one of the key IB Learner Profile attributes reflecting students’
capacity for inter-cultural understanding of other cultural, economic, and social
groups.7 We compared 67 IBDP students in China with 82 IBDP students in five
different countries in East Asia (Indonesia, Laos, Philippines, Singapore and
Korea). Results showed that IBDP students in these countries indicated
moderately high levels of perceptions of their capacity to be open-minded, given

that the measure was based on a six-point Likert scale: mean = 4.41, SD = 0.81
for IBDP students in China and mean = 4.84, SD = 0.84 for IBDP students in
the five countries. At the same time, however, there was a noticeable group
difference in students’ perceptions of their capacity to be ‘open-minded’. A t-test
indicated that IBDP students in China perceived a relatively lower level of ‘open-
minded’ than their peers in other East Asian societies: t(147) = –3.21, p = 0.002.
Discussion
In recent years there has been heightened interest in documenting and explaining
a global upturn of income and wealth inequality since the late 20th century
(Krugman, 2013; Piketty, 2014; Stiglitz, 2012). Looking specifically at China,
research has identified that income inequality now ranks among the highest
globally and that inequality is particularly pronounced compared with countries
with a similar or higher level of economic development (Xie and Zhou, 2014).
A common response to such concerns is that the distribution of income and wealth
is not necessarily a problem in its own right. Instead, it is often argued that the
focus should be on reducing overall levels of poverty and increasing standards of
living (see Feldstein, 1999, 2014). In this regard, China has been remarkably
successful with World Bank data showing levels of “extreme poverty” have
declined from 84% of the population in 1981 to 12% of the population in 2010
(Olinto et al., 2013).
Yet, the work of Sandel (2012) illuminates that a serious implication of
economic inequality, in conjunction with an expansion in the realm of markets,
is the ‘skyboxification’ of everyday life. Sandel posits that in increasingly unequal
societies “we live and work and shop and play in different places. Our children
go to different schools” (p. 203). As a result, Sandel believes that there are fewer
places where “people of different backgrounds and social positions bump up
against one another, in the course of everyday life” which he argues is essential to
enabling citizens to “learn to negotiate and abide our differences” (p. 203). Put
another way, as intra-societal inequality grows, people from different socio-
economic backgrounds live increasingly isolated lives that, in turn, can restrict
the development of inter-cultural understanding and open-mindedness within
society.
In this section we aim to link what we have found from our data of international
IBDP schools in China to this perspective of skyboxification. We argue that
China represents a noteworthy case of skyboxification of an elite schooling
system, given both the rapid expansion of IBDP schools over the past decade and
their status as highly exclusive elite schools to Chinese people and also to some
expatriates who are relatively less affluent relative to their counterparts in China.
Specifically, even compared to IBDP schools in more economically developed
neighbouring countries/societies in the region, IBDP schools in China charged
the highest school fee on average. Furthermore, the face value of such fees would
be comparatively higher, given the living costs and annual income of ordinary
people in China. That is, owing to both financial and legal restrictions on
enrolment, access to international IBDP schools in China remains mostly limited
to an elite minority of non-Chinese nationals from high socio-economic
backgrounds.
While the high performance of IBDP schools in China in terms of university
preparation and entrance to internationally reputable universities is applauded,
the elite status of those IBDP schools indicates that such educational benefit (i.e.,
access to world-class universities) is enjoyed exclusively by those who can afford
high school fees. Probably, one may counter-argue to justify this divide, based on
market principles of selling and buying goods by saying “what’s wrong with
purchasing goods using my personal fortune?” Indeed, there is nothing wrong in
this ‘transaction’ activity per se; selling and buying a civic good such as a place in
an elite school is not illegal at least. However, several moral or justice-related
concerns are overlooked in the transaction of a civic good, such as education.
First, if people can sell and buy something belonging to social public spheres,
then the transaction can alter the essential quality or nature of such a good. For
example, if a place in IBDP schools is regarded as something that can be
transactional only for those who are able to afford it, educational activities
including teaching and learning in IBDP schools can also be viewed as a part of
such a transaction package; the affluent may think that they can buy teachers’
time, teachers’ professionalism, passion of teaching or even they may think that
they can privatise experiences and activities offered by schools. Such a perception
of teacher–student social relations as an economic transaction has been identified
as part of a wider trend of the commodification of teaching practices (see Luke,
2004). We wish to argue that accommodating such transactions as a normal
educational practice has a corrosive component that erodes the value or nature of
education as a civic good—i.e., teaching and learning as part of a transactional
package. If education is something that can be transactional, especially for only a
selected group of parents in a society, without a base of any acceptable meritocratic
components, such an education system can be viewed as merely an apparatus for
reproducing or maintaining those selected groups’ socio-economic status. In
other words, it could be argued that such an education system cannot be regarded
as entirely fair or just.
Another concern is pedagogical. Despite a rich cultural mix of student and
faculty nationalities at IBDP schools in China, students may have limited scope
to interact and develop inter-cultural understanding with host communities.
Both of our qualitative and quantitative data highlight this concern. Indeed,
without counter-balancing measures which successfully promote inter-cultural
understanding and open-mindedness among students, the expansion of the IBDP
across China could result in students being schooled in a relatively elitist “cultural
bubble” (Pearce, 1994), which could also extend to their out-of-school lives due
to language barriers and the concentration of wealthy expatriates in gated

communities which function as “foreign enclaves” (Wang & Lau, 2008).
Specifically, our case study in five high performing schools indicated such
dilemmas embedded in the implementation process of IB Learner Profile and
CAS. These findings were given additional weight by our quantitative data
analysis that shed light on the limited capacity of IB students in China to
demonstrate open-mindedness relative to IB students in five other countries.
Although the quantitative analysis has a limitation in terms of generalisability
given its non-random sampling and small sample size, the finding is indicative
that our concern of skyboxification is legitimate.
While the IBDP’s high performance in terms of university preparation and
entrance can be celebrated, we need to think about how such benefit can be
more widely distributive to the rest of the public. In terms of policy, therefore, it
seems necessary to expand access to IB programmes to public schools with
systematic support. This would not be without precedent. For example, a vast
majority of IBDP schools in the USA are public schools. Indeed, prior research
has shown that IBDP schools in the USA can function as a springboard for the
college admission of students of colour from low-income families (cf. Mayer,
2008). Unlike the US situation, we note that a majority of IBDP schools located
in China and other countries in East Asia operate in the private schooling sector
(Hallinger, Walker & Lee, 2010; Lee et al., 2014; Lee & Wright, 2015). According
to Hallinger et al.’s (2010) study based on data from the IB gathered from 232 IB
programme coordinators around the world, 87.3% of IB coordinators working in
East Asia were from private schools whereas 48.5% of IB coordinators working
in the rest of the world were from private schools. The finding from this proxy
measure is consistent with the observations of others. For example, as of 2010,
international education programmes located in Thailand were serving more than
100,000 students and all were located in private schools (Khaopa & Kaewmukda,
2010 cited in Lee et al., 2012a). This tendency of IB schools to operate
predominantly in the private international schooling sector is salient in China
where only the affluent have access to such educational opportunities. This
resonates with the concerns about skyboxification; the fairness and meritocracy
issues discussed above.
We think that the IBDP is equipped with the potential to become a model for
schooling in the 21st century, given its progressive pedagogical approaches,
innovative curriculum components and deep philosophical underpinnings. At
the same time, however, reflecting all the tensions and concerns discussed in this
paper, as critical supporters for IB schools, we argue that elite international IBDP
schools in China need to pay more attention to the authentic implementation of
CAS and the IB Learner Profile. We are aware that many of the interviewed
teachers and principals strive for such authentic educational activities, despite
various organisational challenges (cf. Lee et al., 2014; Lee et al., 2012a; Lee,
Hallinger & Walker, 2012b). However, if IB schools are to succeed in becoming
a model for 21st-century schooling, rather than being a forerunner among elite
schooling systems, the concerns raised in this chapter must be taken seriously in
terms of school improvement and organisational development.
Finally, we believe that this chapter demonstrates how Sandel’s concept of
skyboxification can serve as another lens to deepen our understanding of the elite
schooling system in particular and the marketisation of schools in general. Above
all, we believe that the skyboxification perspective enables researchers to take a
closer look at the moral limits of the rapidly growing elite international schooling
system in East Asia, which to date has been primarily driven by market impetus
that potentially erodes public and civic life for many of us.
Notes
1 While the vast majority of IBDP schools in China operate in the international
schooling sector, there are a small number of ‘local’ schools in China that offer IB
programmes.
2 The IB defines the Learner Profile as the “set of learning outcomes for the 21st
century” which are promoted through IB programmes. The learning outcomes
include balanced, caring, communicators, inquirers, knowledgeable, principled, open-
minded, reflective, risk-takers, and thinkers (IB, 2014b). CAS is a compulsory part of
the IBDP that is geared towards offering students a “refreshing counterbalance to
academic studies”. The IB states that projects for the Service component of CAS could
involve “helping children with special needs, visiting hospitals and working with
refugees or homeless people” (2014c).
3 Some findings are reconstructed from our recent research (Lee et al., 2014). For more
details of this section, see Lee et al. (2014).
4 Specifically, to generate the first group of universities, we used three major university
ranking tables published in 2011/12: Academic Ranking of World Universities
(ARWU) offered by Shanghai Jiao Tong University, QS World University Rankings,
and the Times Higher Education World University Rankings.
5 Some parts of this section were reconstructed from our previous work (i.e., Wright &
Lee, 2014a).
6 For more details about the statistical procedures and psychometric properties of the
IBLPQ, see Walker et al. (2014). Regarding the question of items for measuring
open-minded, the following items were used: (1) Critically examine your own cultural
values and beliefs. (2) Critically explore the ways different individuals and cultures see
the world. (3) Learn about the values and beliefs of different cultures. (4) Examine
your own values and beliefs through learning how people from other cultures think
and act. (5) Consciously seek more knowledge about different cultures. (6) Encourage
others to learn about different countries and cultures.
7 In this comparison, we excluded the samples from Hong Kong since a vast majority of
the sampled students were from Hong Kong—i.e., 827 out of 976 (85%)—for a more
balanced comparison in terms of the sample sizes of the subgroups.
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4
ELITE SCHOOLBOYS BECOMING
GLOBAL CITIZENS
Examining the Practice of Habitus
Chin Ee Loh
In The Credential Society, published in 1979, Randall Collins (1979) suggests that
educational credentials rather than grades and occupational skills are more likely
predictors of occupational success. He argues that despite the increasing emphasis
on education and greater access to credentials in the US context, there has been
little change in relative stratification, since “the children of the higher social class
have increased their schooling in the same proportions as the lower social classes
have increased theirs” (p. 183). Collins’ prediction of an expansion of credentialism
holds true in today’s neoliberal economy where education continues to be seen
as the route to an economic and social mobility no longer limited by the national
market. The credential competition has intensified to include not just the
accumulation of better grades but also better portfolios that demonstrate
abundance of talent (in the form of sporting or artistic ability) and character (in
the form of leadership, participation in community involvement projects and the
accumulation of varied experiences beyond one’s nation). After all, the world is
an oyster for those who demonstrate the ability to flexibly engage in knowledge
production work, who are able to become “symbol-analysts” (Reich, 1991) or
“ideal global workers” (Resnik, 2008) able to engage in economically rewarding
work at national and international levels.
Elite schools with their rich histories, connections and funding are excellent
breeding grounds for developing students’ portfolio of dispositions, grades and
connections required for global mobility. In this chapter, I focus on how elite
schoolboys construct global identities, on how they become elite through the
acquisition of various desirable dispositions that allow for a flexible citizenship in
various nation-states, and at transnational level (Ong, 1999). As cosmopolitans,
these elite students would become what Hannerz calls “‘the new class’ people
with credentials, decontextualized cultural capital” (Hannerz, 1990, p. 246)
Elite Schoolboys Becoming Global Citizens 71
whose influence rested on whom they know rather than what they know. Yet, the
role of elite schools is not just to provide students with the know-how for
international profit-making. Rather, the ideological role of elite schools in
producing national leaders (Koh & Kenway, 2012) and international agents of
social change (Bunnell, 2010) forms much of the agenda of the elite schools. In
the context of the International Baccalaureate (IB) schools, Bunnell suggests that
the expansion of IB schools could lead to the emergence of a group of business-
oriented ‘class-for-itself’ individuals or to more compassionate, socially responsible
global citizens. In the same way, the complexity of elite schooling is played out
in the everyday lived experiences of students from this study, with the myriad of
school organised events such as extra-curricular activities and overseas enrichment
programmes inculcating twin desires of advancement and service.
The work of elite schools in reproducing advantage has been one key concern
of educational sociologists since the seminal work of Bourdieu and Passeron (1990)
in France and Bowles and Gintis (1976) in the USA. More recently, there has been
another wave of research and scholarship on elite schools in Anglophone contexts
such as the USA (Demerath, 2009; Howard & Gaztambide-Fernández, 2010;
Khan, 2012), France (Draelants & Darchy-Koechlin, 2011), Australia (Meadmore
& Meadmore, 2004). The five-year study by an international team “Elite
Independent Schools in Globalising Circumstances: A Multi-sited Global
Ethnography” (2010–2014) has also done much to expand our understanding of
elite schools in former British colonies such as South Africa, Singapore, and India
(e.g., Epstein, 2014; Fahey, 2014; Kenway & Koh, 2013). “Studying up” (Howard,
2010b) can provide critical insight into how advantage (and thus, disadvantage) is
reproduced. Moreover, in an increasingly globalised world where issues of mobility
and (in)equity extend beyond national boundaries, scholars have also began to
explore the impact of globalisation on elite schooling: how do elite schools
reposition themselves in global educational markets (Courtois, 2015; Rizvi, 2014),
how do elite schools educate students for global professional futures (Forbes &
Lingard, 2015; Kenway & Koh, 2013), how do elite students move across national
borders and for what purposes (Waters, 2006; Ye & Nylander, 2015)?
Becoming an elite student involves the complex interplay of home and school
habitus (Bourdieu, 1984) where the individual learns particular dispositions and
habits associated with being elite. Habitus, or the embodiment of an individual’s
life experiences, including his or her family background, schooling, and
educational credentials, serves as a form of distinction for elite students to
distinguish themselves from the perceived masses. In this chapter, I focus on how
the individual habitus of a group of elite schoolboys cohere with the institutional
habitus of school to shape their identification as potential globe-trotting
professionals and global citizens. This chapter illustrates the situated and localised
nature of habitus by exploring how the taken-for-granted advantages, values and
beliefs embedded in these boys’ everyday practice of place is situated in localised
debates on schooling and education. Examining the practice, or the boys’ lived
72 Chin Ee Loh
experiences of habitus, allows for critical insight into how the “invisible knapsack”
(McIntosh, 1988) of privilege, dominated by the twin discourses of meritocracy
and cosmopolitanism, is played out in the Singapore context.
Theoretical Perspectives
I approach the study of elite students from a position of privilege as identity, thus
foregrounding privilege as a form of self-understanding (Howard, 2010b). Elite
students locate their privilege in relation to others, and within the field of practice
that constitutes the sociocultural milieu, the school and home contexts in which
individuals exist and live. They develop “ways of knowing” (Khan, 2012) about
the world that are meaningful in schooling and high status occupational contexts,
and these ways of knowing are evidenced in their “saying(writing)-doing-being-
valuing-believing” (Gee, 1996, p. 127), everyday taken-for-granted dispositions
that may be perceived as natural to an elite student’s identity. Becoming a particular
kind of elite student is the result of the interplay between agency and structure,
where dialogic interaction with the world and others in it shape individual
notions of who they are and where they belong (Holland et al., 1998).
Bourdieu’s concept of habitus is useful for examining the complexities
involved in the shaping of the identity—the values, beliefs, worldviews and
actions—of an elite student. The habitus is
the durably installed generative principle of regular improvisations … a system

of lasting and transposable dispositions which, integrating past experiences,
functions at every moment as a matrix of perceptions, appreciations and
actions.
(Bourdieu, 1977, pp. 80/95)
The habitus, or an individual’s life position, is thus a set of predispositions acquired

by individuals through early upbringing, and is embodied by being inscribed in
“the body of the biological individual” (Reay, 2004, p. 433). While habitus is “an
open system of dispositions” (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 133) that is
constantly subjected to experiences that may reinforce or modify structures, the
family backgrounds that individuals are born into are more likely than not to lead
to social experiences that reinforce perceptions, beliefs and values about self and
others ingrained from early childhood. Attention to habitus reminds us that
individual worldviews and actions are shaped by the social and cultural networks
that individuals are steeped in, and that the highly personal act of identity-making
is infused with power play.
The concept of habitus is the explanatory device for how individuals come to
possess certain social, cultural and symbolic capital that holds value within a
particular field of practice. The field is the space within which individuals or
groups struggle to gain dominance through acquisition of suitable capital in order
to move up the ladder of social mobility. Injustice, however, occurs when

individuals are conferred dominance by virtue of their race, gender or class
(McIntosh, 1988) and come to see their privilege as deserved and earned as a
result of personal talent and investment without recognition of the structural
advantages to their position (Howard, 2010a). Real or imagined boundaries
shape the individuals’ actual and perceived spaces, and attending to the imagined
field or “figured worlds” (Holland et al., 1998) of individuals, institutions, and
nations allow us to unearth individual ways of thinking that reveal much about
the varieties of habitus that shape the identity construction of these elite
schoolboys. By focusing on the personal and institutional practice of habitus, that
is, the beliefs and values of the student and school inscribed in daily conversations
and curriculum, I identify the dominant and contradictory discourses that shape
elite schoolboys’ understandings of self, school, and society to better understand
how the habitus of excellence and cosmopolitanism are reproduced at institutional
and individual levels. Making visible the mechanics for reproducing inequity in
specific contexts allows us to locate spaces for possible change.
Research Methods
The study takes an ethnographic approach in the case study of six elite schoolboys’
identity practice. Data included observations of different classes and interviews
with Deans, teachers, current students at different grade levels, and alumni,
examination of official documents such as the school website and curriculum
documents, and interviews with school administration, teachers and students
conducted over the course of a year from September 2008 to September 2009. In
order to “understand complex social phenomena” (Yin, 2003, p. 2), case studies
of boys were conducted over the course of one year. At the time of the study,
these boys were between 14 and 15 years of age, and I followed them from Year
2 to Year 3 (equivalent to Grades 8 and 9 in Australia). I observed these boys over
49 classroom observations, interviewed them individually or in groups at least
three times each, collected bi-monthly reading logs from them via email, and
compiled field notes on a weekly basis.
I acknowledge my role as both an insider and outsider. While I was not from
an elite school myself, I attended a Methodist church that was populated with
Ace Institution boys and students from other Methodist institutions. I taught for
six years in three schools, out of which three were spent in Ace Institution. I
returned to Ace Institution as a researcher, an outsider whose gaze had been
informed by her work on literacy, class and schooling, but who also remained in
many ways sensitive to the discourses circulated and enacted within the school.
74 Chin Ee Loh
Social Class and Schooling in the Singapore Context
The Social Context of Schooling in Singapore

Previously a British colony, Singapore is a multiracial state with a Chinese
majority (74.1%) and a substantial percentage of Malays (13.4%), Indians (9.2%),
and other ethnicities (3.3%) (Singapore Department of Statistics, 2011). Given
the lack of hinterland and resources, the Singapore government’s emphasis has
been on people as “its own prime asset” (Olds & Thrift, 2005) to maintain its
competitiveness as a world-class city in a global economy. Education takes on a
“manufacturing” dimension (Koh & Chong, 2014) where individuals are
perceived as human capital to be shaped according to the economic needs of the
nation, in large part through a centralised and highly effective education system.
In the national imagination of Singapore, there is a constant drive towards
cosmopolitanism and excellence to maintain economic competitiveness, yet
maintaining a sense of “belonging and emotional rootedness” (Ministry of
Education, 2011) to the nation paradoxically.
One dominant national discourse that has shaped much of the political and the
education landscape is the concept of meritocracy, understood as the provision of
equal opportunity for social and economic advancement, based on merit rather
than race, religion, or gender. However, there is inherent contradiction between
egalitarianism and elitism in a meritocratic system that is designed to cultivate the
best and brightest in the belief that there would be a trickle-down effect to
society at large (K. P. Tan, 2010). Given the widening income disparities in
Singapore’s market-driven economy (Smith, 2015), there are increasing concerns
that a “class-blind” version of meritocracy may lead to elitism and social
stratification. Yet, official educational policies and research tend to sideline
socioeconomic status as a factor for school success (J. Tan, 2010).
The terms ‘cosmopolitans’ and ‘heartlanders’ coined by former Prime Minister
Goh Chok Tong (1999) to describe two kinds of Singaporeans may well capture
the mindset that lingers in Singapore’s differentiated educational policy and
practices (see Ho, 2012; Lim, 2014). Cosmopolitans have an “international
outlook that enable them to work and be comfortable anywhere in the world”
whereas the heartlanders are the “conservative majority” who tend to be more
rooted to the nation and concerned with their daily bread and butter than political
issues. The cosmopolitan–heartlander terminology has strong social inflections
and generated much controversy when first used because of its uncomplicated
division of Singaporeans into two types with their specific traits and dispositions.
Cosmopolitans are perceived as more likely to treat Singapore as a “hotel” rather
than a “home” because of their global marketability, whereas heartlanders tend to
see Singapore as home because of their attachment to home, or their lack of
choice (Ho, 2006). At the same time, because cosmopolitans are able to generate
wealth through their skills and connections, they must be persuaded to regard
Singapore as home and the world as their marketplace. Thus, while elite students
are expected to become globe-trotting cosmopolitans with international outlooks
and skills to extend their economic reach beyond Singapore, heartlanders are less
mobile, and invariably tied to the nation by their absence of options.
Institutional Discourses of Excellence, Cosmopolitanism,

and Service
The concepts of cosmopolitan and heartlander are played out in the different
kinds of schools in Singapore. As with many post-colonial nations, Singapore has
inherited the British educational legacy of training elite students for leadership
(Kennedy, 2013), and Ace Institution is one such elite school with a long history
of educational and extra-curricular achievement. Elite schools are perceived as
educational sites for the intense grooming of talent—whether academic, sporting
or artistic—and stand apart from generic “neighbourhood” schools catering to
the majority of Singapore students with their long and unique institutional
histories and identities. Michael, one of the participants in the study, remarked
that he chose Ace Institution out of the many schools available to him after his
Primary School Leaving Examination (PSLE) because of the confidence projected
by Ace Institution boys.
The school’s institutional habitus is important in preserving and reproducing
the social positioning of elite schools as choice schools for the cultivation of
particular sorts of dispositions and skills required for a global world (Forbes &
Lingard, 2015). The institutional habitus (Reay, David & Ball, 2001), “understood
as the impact of a cultural group or social class on an individual’s behaviour as it
is mediated through an organization” (McDonough, 1996 in Reay et al., 2001),
consists of the ethos, values and expectations of the school. Institutional habitus
plays an important role insofar as it structures individuals’ perceptions and
expectations of choice and contributes to students’ understanding of the purpose
of education (for them) and their role in the wider world. The institutional
habitus is situated and specific to its location. Discourses of excellence and
distinction, tradition and progressiveness, and rooted cosmopolitanism comprise
Ace Institution’s institutional habitus, and are reflected in the boys’ demeanour
and attitudes.
Founded in 1886 by British Methodist missionaries, it can be said that Ace
Institution had always had its eye on the (English) world with its emphasis on the
English language and culture, an asset even after Singapore gained independence
as English was perceived as the language of business, and eventually adopted as
the language of education and business (Gopinathan, 1980). The school was one
of the first schools in Singapore to organise annual overseas learning trips for its
students before it became fashionable, a reflection of the school’s cosmopolitan
outlook as well as relative wealth. The school, with its long history of educational
excellence, was also one of the first schools in Singapore chosen to become an
76 Chin Ee Loh
Integrated Programme (IP) school, where academically able, university-bound

students are allowed to skip a national high stakes examination, the GCE ‘O’
level examinations, and move on directly from secondary school (Years 1–4,
equivalent to Grades 7–10 in the Australian system) to pre-tertiary education
within the school. The aim towards internationalism, in line with the national
discourse of globalisation, is evident in the school’s adoption of the International
Baccalaureate Diploma Programme (IBDP), an international schooling system, as
the selected route for students who qualified, and opted to skip the GCE O
levels. Through the World Literature focus of the IBDP curriculum, the school
shapes the cosmopolitan sensibilities of the Ace student as well read and
multicultural in his or her ease with texts from different parts of the world (Loh,
2012). The emphasis on literary study in the IBDP English curriculum is telling
in that it marks the elite school boy as above the rest, since Literature is perceived
as a subject reserved for the elite who have a flair for language.
In the hypercompetitive educational climate of Singapore, Ace Institution
students were given many opportunities to perform academically and in their
extracurricular activities. Trophies for sporting, artistic and uniformed groups
lined the main foyer and the principal’s office and contributed to a sense of
history and excellence. Like the students in other studies of elite schools, Ace
Institution students more often than not display a sense of assuredness (Forbes &
Lingard, 2015) in the way they related to others and with regard to their possible
futures. A long-time teacher at the school described the Ace Institution boy to
me as “confident, sometimes to the extent of being cocky” and suggests that
“part of the confidence comes from speaking and writing well”. In my interviews
and informal conversations with school staff, alumni, recent graduates and
students, there was a strong sense of loyalty to the school’s superior “brand”
(Demerath, 2009) of education. Ace Institution’s brand included being fluent in
English, both spoken and written, self-confidence, and having a strong arts and
sporting culture. This culture of achievement and confidence is evident in the
illustrious alumni records of the school, boasting of alumni from top-tier
universities all over the world including Oxford in the UK, Yale and Stanford in
the USA, and successful professionals, businessmen, politicians, and thespians
well known in Singapore and overseas for their success in their respective fields.
Beyond these prestigious fields, Ace Institution could also lay claim to a number
of alumni involved in missions or not-for-profit work, in line with its aims to
develop citizens willing to serve both nation and world in less (monetarily)
profitable ways.
Elite Schoolboys Becoming Global Citizens

It is within these dominant and overlapping discourses of nation and school that
the elite students in the study constructed their identities as both global and
Singapore citizens. Elite schoolboys constructing themselves as globe-trotting
cosmopolitans is very much in line with both national and institutional desires,
yet this desire to go global has to be mitigated within the local context, where
issues of human capital and economic interests have to be balanced with the
school’s mission to contribute in visible ways to the community. Ostensibly, the
international curriculum and ethos of the school strives towards the ideal of
constructing global citizens ready to participate and contribute to an interconnected
world. Yet, the overriding pragmatic reason for most parents to invest in Ace
Institution’s international education represented by the IBDP with its emphasis
on critical thinking, innovation and problem-solving is that of their child’s future
economic prospects and global job mobility (Bunnell, 2010; Resnik, 2008). At
the same time, it would be simplifying matters to say that all parents and students
saw only the economic benefits of elite schooling without recognising the service
aspect emphasised in the institutional habitus of Ace Institution. Rather, there
remains an ambivalent tension between education for self-gain and education for
others in the everyday practice of becoming elite.
Meritocracy and Hard Work as the Route to Becoming Elite

The boys in this study are generally unaware of their class position and relative
privilege in the Singapore context, seeing themselves as ‘average’ Singaporeans, a
comparison made possible by the considerable number of wealthy students within
the school. Their relative home advantage can be inferred from a news report
stating that 72% of the students from Ace Institution’s parents had university
degrees, compared to the paltry 5–13% in neighbourhood schools (Ramesh,
2011). Of the six case study students, all parents were university graduates, all
either had both parents in professional jobs or had a stay-at-home mother looking
after them, all lived in private property and all travelled widely with their family.
Students learn privilege and imbued their right to their class position as part of
their identity, as illustrated in the following focus group conversation where the
boys positioned themselves as equal players in a meritocratic system where the
best (and most hardworking) man wins (Howard, 2010a; Koh, 2014). In the
following focus group discussion, the boys themselves bring up and acknowledge
the division of school types in Singapore, seeing the division into ‘NSK’ or
‘neighbourhood school kids’ and elite school students as part and parcel of the
Singapore landscape of schooling.
Robert:1 That’s why we’re here in the Ace Institution.

Roger: I think that’s quite true you know. Cos that’s the divide between
NSK and us. NSK.
Joshua: Yeah.
Roger: That is the divide.
78 Chin Ee Loh
Chin Ee: NSK?

Joshua: Neighbourhood school kids.
Robert: The general populace … for those who rise above the propaganda.
Chin Ee: Is it so clear-cut as this? That it’s neighbourhood school kids
versus elite school.
Robert: Seriously. You see, we’re just making a generalisation. Most
people are just satisfied with their lot in life …
Roger: Like, look at them? So we have two classes of people. Those that
are rather educated and those that are educated but …
Michael: But that’s quite untrue. As in generally you know …
Sanjeev: Those people, they have no interest in being the best, being globally
competitive, don’t care. Cos it obviously doesn’t make any difference.
Robert: They’re only concerned with living their lives happily, being
content … It’s one of those comparisons between those who are satisfied
with going to SIM [Singapore Institute of Management] and those who
want to go overseas.
Chin Ee: But what if you can’t financially?
Robert: Get a scholarship!
Chin: What if academically you can’t?
Robert: It’s the goal. Those who dream of studying overseas will study for it.
(Focus Group, 19 May 2009, emphasis mine)
In the above extract, the students position themselves as intelligent and

hardworking individuals, thus locating themselves in a position of power, which
is in their opinion, earned. Individual agency is strong, and even the choice of
school is seen as deliberate individual effort to excel (“That’s why we’re here in
Ace Institution”). Their identities are constructed by distinguishing themselves
from the NSK or neighbourhood school kids, a term used in a derogatory manner
by the boys to mark those who “have no interest in being the best” (Sanjeev) and
who are “only concerned with living their lives happily” (Robert). Roger,
Robert, Joshua and Sanjeev position themselves as “those that are rather educated”
(Roger) and who will work hard to achieve excellence, evidenced in part by a
desire for an overseas education, a sign of their cosmopolitan outlook. In contrast,
NSK are rooted to Singapore because they are easily “content” (Robert) and are
not interested in “being globally competitive” (Sanjeev). The desire to go global
is thus linked with the desire to be excellent.
Identities are positional and relational (Holland et al., 1998), and it is in

comparison with others that individuals develop a stable sense of where they are
(Taylor, 1989). The unproblematic acceptance of NSK as those who do not try
and elite school students as those who do reflects the boys’ superficial understanding
of meritocracy as an equal system that will benefit all who work hard. They
position themselves on the top rung of the social ladder of success but do not
recognise that their movement up the academic and credential ladder may be due
to their privileged family backgrounds, which include access to print-rich
backgrounds (Lareau, 2003; Loh, 2013) and investments in private tuition and
out-of-school enrichment activities such as piano lessons and annual holidays to
far-flung places. Instead, the dominant discourse is that of the ethics of hard
work, which drives the conversation about ambition, success and education.
Using what Howard (2010a) terms a “naturalization ideological strategy”, the
boys accord achievement patterns to personal choice and effort rather than
economic background. By according the same agency to all students, they are
able to argue that less successful students do not succeed because of their lack of
will and effort. In the process, social class is downplayed and their ability to be the
best is attributed to innate intelligence, talent and hard work.
This same misrecognition (Bourdieu & Passeron, 1990) is observed by Stuber
(2010) in her study of middle-class college girls. She notes their propensity to be
“blind” to their own privilege. Instead of comparing themselves to the less
privileged, privileged girls tend to relativise their privilege against those who are
more privileged than themselves. Growing up in relatively cloistered and uniform
social worlds with others in the same life position, the boys do not see their
relative advantage. Thus, Sanjeev, one of the case study students, remarks that
because he does not live in Bukit Timah, a wealthy residential area, he is not
“super-rich” even though he lives in a large bungalow, and expects to go to the
USA for an Ivy League education on his parents’ sponsorship, following his
sister’s footsteps.
Yet, the issue of constructing a global identity as an elite student is a complex
issue lived out in the everyday experiences and practices of these boys, which
differ across experiences and across the years. In the discussion, Michael attempts
to interrupt the dominant discourse (“But that’s quite untrue”), but is silenced by
the force of the discussion positioning NSK as uncompetitive and lazy. In a
follow-up interview, Michael tells me that he is a “heartlander” and explains
Yeah, I’m a freaking Hokkien-speaking Ah Beng! I don’t say in front of you

or act like that in school. But when I go out with my friends, they’re not
like these school friends. They’re like people from ITE [Institute of
Technical Education], neighbourhood schools, all those pie kiah ones …
It’s not true that they are not educated.
(Interview with Michael, 27 March 2009)
80 Chin Ee Loh
Michael’s alternative viewpoint comes from the fact that his out-of-school
social circle includes friends at church and at his neighbourhood playground from
other walks of life. Michael positions himself as a ‘heartlander’ as opposed to the
cosmopolitan Singaporean. However, he is, paradoxically, the epitome of
cosmopolitanism, a confident English language speaker whose favourite subject is
Literature, and who is proud to be Ace-sian. His life experiences interrupt the
dominant discourse that governs his classmates’ mindsets about the ‘NSK Other’,
and provides him with an alternate way of imagining the world as a Singaporean
student. He proffers an alternate version of elitism that includes an awareness of
privilege, chiefly because of his own experiences beyond the typical social circle
of his schoolmates. His interaction with the NSK others gives him insight into
the social lives of others against which he measures his life position and expands
his knowledge of the world.
The Institutional Habitus of Cosmopolitanism and Service

Through Overseas Learning
In contrast to the boys’ limited knowledge of different social worlds in Singapore,
the school seeks to expand students’ knowledge of the world through the
organisation of compulsory Overseas Enrichment Programmes (OEPs) for its
students. These annual trips to places such as Vietnam and Thailand, and resulting
fund-raising activities are in line with the school’s core purpose for students to be
“equipped and willing to serve and lead in the family, nation and global
community” (school website) through international outreach programmes. The
school’s commitment to the programme is evident in the amount of resources
pumped into it and its commitment to return to the same locations to serve. The
institutionalised practice of overseas community service, repeated annually,
becomes part of the school habitus, and is etched into individual consciousness.
These overseas trips ostensibly served two seemingly contradictory functions: it
imbues a sense of social responsibility in the students while adding to the students’
character portfolio by demonstrating their willingness to engage in service and
distinguish themselves as truly global, multicultural and cosmopolitan citizens
from parochial others.
The students themselves saw these trips as significant and influential learning
experiences, and acknowledged that it contributed to their understanding of the
world at large.
We went to Ho Chi Minh and we saw the war museums and all. There
were also cultural programmes and we went to an orphanage with children
with special needs. We went there and ate curry with them. It was quite
fun … I guess family trips are more for enjoyment and school trips are for
education, cultural bridging and all that stuff.
(Interview with Roger, 24 March 2009)
I think OEP helps us to see the world. Going out to see the world is better
than sitting in class and reading a text which might not even be relevant …
Like for OEP, you go to Vietnam and you see all the kids from messed up
families. And what you experience there is something that cannot be read
at home.
(Interview with Michael, 27 March 2009)
These overseas trips provide a way for students to move out of their comfortable
homes and holidays to experience another version of the world other than the
tourist gaze so often applied on family holidays. The institutional habitus supports
their personal habitus of travelling to see the world, enlarging the purpose of
travel with its focus on service learning rather than tourism. Ironically, however,
students’ reflections typically reflect how these experiences teach them to be
grateful for what they have rather than enlarging their perspective on social
injustice in the world.
It’s … It just makes you realise how much you have. And shows you how
to give back to the community if you have the privilege to go. For example,
if you have a degree, like you’re an architect, you could design flats for
them. I don’t know, it’s a whole give back to society thing …
(Interview with Robert, 31 March 2009)
There is a strong sense of the need to see the world differently, and to give back
to society, for example in Robert’s example of how an architect can give back to
society through designing flats for the needy. Given the strong missionary ethos
of the school, it is hardly surprising that students imbue this “gift economy”
mentality to give back to society, whether they see it as self-interested philanthropy
or public service (Kenway & Fahey, 2015). Kenway and Fahey have argued in
their study of a Scottish girls’ school that this expected benevolence in elite
schools may underwrite students’ status quo rather than challenge it, especially
when these acts of giving are used to justify existing power relations. In this case,
the implication here is that acts of charity justify students’ ignorance of larger
injustice.
Ironically, these acts of altruism are not disinterested in that they yield moral
and educational profit. Students develop “cosmopolitan capital”, defined as the
development of predispositions and competencies resulting in a “propensity to
engage in globalizing social arenas and succeed in the struggle for global positions
of privilege” (Weenick, 2008, p. 1092 in Windle & Stratton, 2012, p. 205).
So the programmes give you an impression of what the world is like so you
can see what the needs of other countries are … At the same time, it’s a good
way for us to build up our portfolio when we have to apply to universities.
(Interview with Joshua, 27 March 2009)
82 Chin Ee Loh
Students themselves recognise the pragmatic nature of their investment of time

and effort in these overseas programmes. These overseas experiences allow them to
acquire a knowledge of the Other and enhance their character portfolio with the
inclusion of a superficial multiculturalism as part of their portfolio of global
dispositions (Resnik, 2008). Given the intense competition for places in top
universities overseas and in Singapore, these experiences will allow them to position
themselves as global citizens, committed to community service. Whether the
students absorb the institutional habitus of cosmopolitanism for self-gain or are
committed to a national or transnational form of citizenship, whether they see
themselves as building a marketable transnational portfolio for personal economic
gain or whether they gain a sense of responsibility for nation and world is uncertain.
The dominant discourse of the institutional habitus is that students must learn
to be cosmopolitan citizens, able and willing to engage with the world at large,
committed to doing good outside the nation. This cosmopolitan identity posits an
awareness of the world but also highlights the lack of awareness of more local
issues of social justice, demonstrated in the conversation about NSK and success
in schooling. Because the trips are made to less privileged, often third world
nations, students tend to locate themselves as citizens of a privileged nation rather
than as privileged individuals within the nation. Their inattention to their own
privilege is amplified by the dominant discourses of meritocracy where each
man’s success is seen as the result of his or her hard work. The blindness to local
issues is echoed in Sim’s (2012) study within an elite all girls’ school in Singapore
where she noted that while the students were aware of their responsibilities as
future leaders to lead through example, there was a troubling lack of discourse
“around issues of polarization and inequality confronting the Singapore society”
(p. 206). The institutional habitus towards cosmopolitanism, while noble in its
twin aims of preparing students both to be socially-responsible and for the
international world of business, may have the unintended effect of closing
students’ minds to inequitable social worlds within the nation. Given the
expectations that these students are likely to serve as future business and political
leaders (Goh, 2015; Sim, 2012), greater awareness and empathy for local issues
should constitute the habitus of elite students.
Conclusion
The identification of dominant discourses that shape these elite students’ everyday
practices of being elite and cosmopolitan helps us to understand how particular
mindsets and attitudes are reproduced and reinforced. Rather than seeing habitus
as fixed space, understanding habitus as a space for negotiation helps us to identify
how the boys’ belief in hard work and charity are in line with one of many
versions of meritocracy (K. P. Tan, 2010), a version that does not take into
account the different starting points of individuals in the field of the nation. The
boys’ personal beliefs in their status as gifted and hardworking (thereby adhering
to international standards of excellence) can only be sustained and legitimised

through the powerful dominant ideology of meritocracy that pervades their self-
worth and their view of others. The institutional habitus towards cosmopolitanism
(which reflects national discourses) serves as a form of distinction (Bourdieu,
1984) in the credential race, reinforcing students’ understanding of themselves as
cosmopolitans in relation to the more parochial others within the nation.
What this study reveals are the tensions present in the way class, schooling,
global and local imaginations intersect with institutional and individual habitus. In
the race towards global competitiveness, the school and students in the school have
to negotiate the ambivalent aims of programmes designed to cultivate cosmopolitan
marketability and citizenry. Students accumulate dispositions and experiences from
both home and school that go towards the creation of a global cosmopolitan
portfolio to add to their credibility and competitiveness in a credential society that
prizes academic and moral excellence. Ironically, the focus on the cosmopolitan in
the form of overseas experiences that distinguish the students as knowledgeable of
the world at large masks students’ superficial understanding of local politics and
their position as privileged students within the local community. Locating the
dominant discourses inscribed unto students’ identities evident in their everyday
practice provides a starting point for making visible how elitist attitudes towards
meritocracy and cosmopolitanism are reproduced in everyday practices. While the
quandary between fulfilling the economic and ethical dimensions of schooling will
remain, rethinking how to disrupt existing dominant discourses at the level of
institutional habitus may encourage more critical and compassionate versions of
meritocracy and cosmopolitanism in elite students’ identification as both national
and global citizens.
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank the staff and students at Ace Institution for generously
allowing me to conduct the research at the school. I am also grateful to Jane
Kenway, Aaron Koh and the two anonymous reviewers for their invaluable
feedback on the earlier drafts of this chapter.
Note
1 Pseudonyms have been used throughout this chapter.
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5
THE JOY OF PRIVILEGE
Elite Private School Online Promotions and the
Promise of Happiness
Christopher Drew, Kristina Gottschall,

Natasha Wardman, and Sue Saltmarsh
Introduction
Images of happy, successful students are ubiquitous in “the education landscape
and the idealized childhoods it invites us to imagine” (Saltmarsh, 2011, p. 33).
Through a broad range of texts, policies and everyday practices, cultural
imaginaries that equate childhood with happiness as simultaneously an ideal, an
entitlement and a natural state of being, furnish normative frames of reference for
which cultural understandings of childhood and studenthood emerge (Saltmarsh,
2011; Chapman & Saltmarsh, 2013; Fisher, Harris & Jarvis, 2008; Youdell, 2006).
In this chapter, we consider how the promotional texts of elite private schools in
Australia draw upon and contribute to the discursive constitution of childhood
happiness as a commodified feature of ideal studenthood. We argue that in elite
school promotions, happiness functions alongside institutional narratives of
gender, sexuality, race, and social class as a device that equates social status and
privilege with idealised imaginaries of child/student subjectivities.
Australian education has, since the emergence and entrenchment of the
neoliberal project in the late 1980s, been characterised by policies favouring
choice and competition in schooling sectors (Symes, 1998; Whitty, Power &
Halpin, 1998). As Kenway (2013) points out:
market liberalism and school choice have been the dominant policy discourses
which … have led to a disastrous school funding model which has supported
an exodus from the public sector, serious funding inequities between public
and private schools and heavy burdens on the state sector which takes a
disproportionate number of students needing extra resources and care.
(p. 287)
88 Christopher Drew, Kristina Gottschall et al.
In such a climate, independent, Catholic, and public sector schools alike have
been expected by successive governments to ‘hold their own’ in an education
marketplace in which some have been better positioned than others for success.
Placed in competition for students and funding, schools have become involved
“in various commodification (promotion and recruitment) practices at home,
overseas and virtually” in which “‘branding’ through school and system websites
becomes crucial” (Kenway & Fahey, 2014, p. 181).
Within such a context, our previous work in this field has highlighted and
challenged the ways that educational marketisation exacerbates competitiveness,
elitism, and exclusionary educational practices (Saltmarsh, 2007; Youdell, 2004).
In particular, we have been interested in how the promotions, marketing, and
impression management practices of elite schools discursively constitute their
students as winners in the competitive educational climate, and in so doing
simultaneously reinscribe the status and prestige of such schools (Drew, 2013;
Saltmarsh, 2007, 2008; Gottschall et al., 2010; Wardman et al., 2010; Wardman
et al., 2013; Symes, 1998). This work overall has maintained a sustained focus on
the ways that gender, race, geographic location, and socioeconomic privilege are
invoked in school promotions in the service of competitive educational and
social hierarchies.
Here we turn our attention to the ways that happiness is utilised in the semiotic
elements and discursive practices of elite school promotional websites, in ways
that position elite subjectivities as proximate to the happy, good and desirable life.
Institutional narratives of happy elite educational institutions, we contend,
constitute elite subjectivities as inherently good, while excluding the possibility
of unhappiness as a consequence of the marginalisation and competitiveness that
underpin elitist narratives. Thus we focus on the ways that happy narratives of
elite school websites produce educational inclusions and exclusions, enabling and
encouraging privileged student subjectivities within the space of the elite school
while discursively marginalising and sidelining non-privileged subjectivities as
unhappy performatives. Such rhetoric, we argue, is not simply representational
and symbolic, but also has the performative effect of entrenching discourses of the
happy, good life as an exclusionary social imaginary. By highlighting how these
happiness narratives are also contingent on the unhappy practices of marginalisation
and competition, this paper challenges the assumption of the promotional texts
analysed that elite gendered, racialised, and socially classed subjectivities are
necessarily and wholly happy, good, desirable, and superior.
The Promise of Happiness

In commonplace western thought, happiness is an emotion to which all should
strive in their daily lives (Frey & Stutzer, 2002), or, as Ahmed (2008b) puts it,
“Happiness is often described as what we aim for, as an end-point, or even an
end-in-itself” (p. 11). Contemporary discourse positions happiness as an
The Joy of Privilege 89
indisputably positive emotion, and its attainment is prized as a sign of success in

life. This way of thinking has driven the contemporary “happiness industry”
(Ahmed, 2010, p. 4) that includes positive psychology, consumable self-help
books and courses, and statistics outlining how individual happiness might be
achieved (Ahmed, 2010). Global happiness, too, is consistently measured and
lauded as an ultimate social goal to be achieved through scales such as the Gross
National Happiness (GNH) indicator and the Happy Planet Index. Happiness
and goodness are frequently elided in such projects, which assume that to induce
happiness is inherently good (Ahmed, 2010; Frey & Stutzer, 2002).
The happiness industry has been instrumental in the commodification of
happiness as a good that can be acquired (Frey & Stutzer, 2002). In “the virtuous
liaison of happiness and profit” (Rose, 1999, p. 86), economic capital and
consumer choice enable people to make up their lives through goods, services,
and “experiential commodities” (Kenway & Bullen, 2001, p. 126) equated with
happiness. As Frey and Stutzer (2002) argue, “Economic activity—the production
of goods and services—is certainly not an end in itself but only has value in so far
as it contributes to human happiness” (p. 1). In this context, advertising promotes
happiness within the terms of consumption and economic capital.
However, recent cultural studies approaches focus not on how happiness
might be achieved, but on “what does happiness do?” (Ahmed, 2010, p. 1). This
approach can be seen as part of the affective turn in cultural studies that has gained
traction largely since the emergence in the 1990s and 2000s of Thrift’s
nonrepresentational theory, which focuses on “the excessive and transient aspects
of living” (Lorimer, 2005, p. 83). Thrift (2007) points toward the limits of
representation theories concerned only with semiotic indicators, and instead
focuses on affective practices and actions. Following Thrift, Lorimer (2005)
argues that “the tendency for cultural analyses to cleave towards a conservative,
categorical politics of identity and textual meaning” (p. 83) has overlooked how
peoples’ emotions impact their behaviours, calling for increased attention to
emotions within social interactions.
Sara Ahmed’s (2004, 2010) concern with cultural politics asks how emotions
such as happiness might be constituted through discourse. From this vantage point,
we consider happiness as an emotion that does not exist outside of social and
cultural assumptions about what constitutes a good, desirable, and successful life.
This approach highlights how cultural discourses can position certain privileged
subjectivities as comported towards happiness, while foreclosing other, non-
normative subjectivities as unhappy and therefore undesirable. Rather than
happiness being rendered a factual and inevitable outcome of certain ways of
being, we consider it as a performative rhetorical device that constitutes
subjectivities as worthy or otherwise within cultural discourse.
Ahmed argues that emotions are discursive, and rely on cultural and historical
understandings of particular objects and subjects as necessitating particular
emotional reactions. For Ahmed, emotional reactions such as happiness are
learned and sustained through discourse. Ahmed suspends the assumption that
things that are happy are necessarily good or worthy, and argues instead that
happiness produces things as good and worthy: “to be happy about something
makes something good” (Ahmed, 2010, p. 210). When happiness is discursively
associated with some ways of being more than others, it emerges that happiness
is something to be achieved by striving towards certain subjecthoods. As Ahmed
(2010) argues, “some bodies more than others will bear the promise of happiness”
(p. 45). Happiness, here, is “what you get for being a certain kind of being”
(Ahmed, 2010, p. 12).
Ahmed’s examinations of emotion in The Cultural Politics of Emotion (2004)
involve readings of the ways texts generate emotive effects that influence the
readings of represented subjects. The “emotionality of texts”, she explains, is
produced through framing strategies—such as “figures of speech” and “metonymy
and metaphor” (2004, p. 12), in ways that mark some subjectivities as desirable
through their proximity to happiness, and others as unhappy and therefore
undesirable. Texts, she argues, can use discourses of happiness to produce some
interactions and narratives as requiring particular emotive responses to certain
subjectivities. From such a perspective, texts performatively reiterate the happiness
and goodness or otherwise of certain bodies, thereby entrenching, sustaining, or
challenging discursive understandings of the happy, good, and desirable subject.
Here, we utilise Ahmed’s happiness theory to consider how happiness might be
used in elite school websites to frame certain student subjectivities as desirable and
worthy within the context of elite education, and to foreclose other subjectivities
from happy, good, and elite subjecthoods. In considering the promotional, semiotic,
and discursive features of these websites, we aim to challenge prevailing educational
discourses within our region. We see the promotion of educational elitism as
situated within a marketised educational policy context that encourages competition
and stratification of schooling sectors. The elision of happiness with the consumption
of elite education, we contend, contributes to inequitable discourses that privilege
some schooled subjectivities over others.
Elite school websites were located using internet search engines, through
which we searched for schools following Gaztambide-Fernández’s (2009)
criterion for identifying elite schools. This criterion search involved the
identification of high-profile local schools that featured elite school identification
markers including influential alumni, longevity of establishment, boarding
options, elite geographical indicators such as sandstone buildings and large
manicured lawns, and participation in elite interschool rugby and rowing
competitions (Gaztambide-Fernández, 2009). We identified 12 schools that met
Gaztambide-Fernández’s (2009) definition of elite, which we de-identified and
renamed as Schools A–L in no particular order. Three of these schools are
co-educational, five are all-boys, and four all-girls. We collaborated on the
synthesis and analysis of the data using discourse analytic (Fairclough, 2001;
Foucault, 1972; Lee, 2000; Threadgold, 2000) and social semiotic (Kress & van
Leeuwen, 2006; O’Halloran, 2004; Yell, 2005) methods. We searched for

semiotic and discursive representations of happy elite subjectivities, and critiqued
the performative inclusions and exclusions within the images, videos, and written
text in order to examine the ways happiness was used on the websites to produce
particular subjectivities as good, worthy, and desirable within the elite school
contexts. Semiotic indicators of happiness included, but were not limited to,
smiling faces, physical proximity of the students, hugging, giggling, eye contact,
harmony, soft and natural lighting, and words alluding to the school’s and
children’s joy, excitement, and contentment. Discursive indicators included
references to social and economic comfort, inclusion, access to exclusive and
privileged lifestyles, and references to positive psychology discourse which might
imply that happiness is an end goal of attending the institution.
Happy Schools are Happy Families

Images of happy children and teachers appear in every website studied. Generally
found on banners both static and moving at the top of the homepage, smiling
children welcome viewers to the site. These smiling faces work to set a tone for
the cyber-visit, as do the well-manicured, uniformed students walking through
serene grounds. Students smile toward the camera, offering a visual invitation
into the school’s online space. Happiness, as one of the most immediate messages
being conveyed on the webpages, functions as a central ingredient to the
production of the school as a good and desirable place to be. As Ahmed (2010)
puts it, happiness is not just an effect of goodness, but also “participates in making
things good” (p. 13).
Frequently, homepages and ‘boarding school’ pages on school websites allude
to the notion of the school as a happy family.
We care for our Boarders as if they were family members in a warm,

supportive, safe, and nurturing community, and take the time to listen to
each of their needs.
(School I)
Like any family, you have your ups and downs; however, we seem to have
had many more ups than downs. The range of friendships, the care of the
students, the respect, and the Christian values that our children, all four of
them, have received as a result of being enrolled at [School G] has helped
them become the happy and successful people they are today.
(Parent testimonial, School G)
The repetition of the notion of family on most school websites analysed emphasises
a proclaimed commitment to family and its associated discursive ideals—loyalty,
safety, nurturance, and togetherness. Just as the family “promises happiness in
return for loyalty” (Ahmed, 2008b, p. 13), constructing the school within these
terms equates the school brand with happy ways of being.
The school ‘family’ is also conspicuously heteronormative, with gender norms
and sexualities closely policed over the course of students’ stay at the school. The
all-girl School A, for example, introduces socials with boys in Grade 9, the same
grade when they become mentors for the younger girls in the form of junior
sport captaincy. Such a structure constructs proximity between the responsibility
to mingle with the opposite sex and the requirement to mentor younger girls in
how to appropriately conduct oneself when in proximity to boys and masculine
public space. The legitimacy of femininity and female sexualities rests on its
manageability within highly contrived, heteronormative scenes of romantic
mingling with boys, with no place in frames of recognition for queer subjectivities.
Older girls are often given the opportunity to socialise with boys of the same age
under controlled circumstances, and younger girls are kept away from boys,
sustaining a narrative of asexuality for younger children and heteronormative
sexuality for older girls (Robinson, 2013).
Constructing the school as a family also anticipates a potential concern of
future clients—that children who board will spend extended periods of time
away from home. School websites anticipate and attempt to address these
concerns by constructing school as a ‘home away from home’:
Sending a child away to school is a significant decision for any family to

make. At [School B] we appreciate the responsibility parents entrust in us,
to nurture and guide their daughter through her formative years. Our goal
is to provide a safe and happy ‘home away from home’.
(School B)
The emphasis in boarding is on creating a home away from home

atmosphere with extra touches such as flat screen TV, pool table, music and
a large common area.
(School C)
By invoking the idea of school as a home, the school is constructed as a private

space, a personal sanctuary for the students (Christensen, James & Jenkins, 2000;
Sibley, 1995; Valentine, 2004). The home is a refuge and source of comfort,
whose symbolism takes its meaning for its direct contrast to the world beyond
(Sibley, 1995). The home is exclusive: a space which others generally enter only
on invitation. In this way, the home can come to be a location that is highly
policed and made to match the ideals of the owner. Unwanted people, and indeed
unwanted ideas, can be excluded more easily in this private space than in public
realms beyond. In this way, home can become a sanitised (Walkerdine, 1999),
child-friendly space for anxious parents hoping to preserve the ‘innocence’ and
‘safety’ of their children.
This recurring ‘happy family’ motif implies that happiness comes from
embracing family ideals and norms, through which a shared sense of identity and
belonging is derived. Normative family discourses also have a disciplinary effect,
constructing conformity as a means to personal and shared happiness:
We know that if a girl feels ‘liked’ and happy within herself, she is more
likely to be able to concentrate on her school work.
(School I)
boarder students need to have the ability to communicate positively with

the school community and remain happy to learn!
(School G)
Happiness and camaraderie in conformity is confirmed in images as well as

written text, such as on the School J site, where gender conformity is reinforced.
On one image, girls hold hands while skipping along in lines through the green
manicured grounds, with trees and grass framing the image. Another image shows
the girls covered in mud and hugging while smiling at the camera. They are
enjoying nature together. We have highlighted elsewhere that the emphasis elite
school promotions put on girls’ connectedness to nature invokes the discursive
ideal of nature as “a trope through which femininity is constructed” in order to
sell the schools as producing “‘proper’ and ‘respectable’ upper-middle-class
‘ladies’” (Wardman, et al., 2013, p. 292). This constructs nature, and attendance
at the school, as inherently good for girls. It attests to the schools’ production of
‘well-rounded’ girls who will gain mastery over potentially unruly bodies and
minds through performatives of naturally feminine ideals.
Furthermore, the intertwined arms and smiling faces in these images threads
the girls together and removes distance between them—a visual strategy implying
closeness and connectedness. Images of happiness and physical interconnectedness
confirm a sense of family, closeness, and indeed a shared destiny, constituting
natural femininity as a happy, hence inherently good, performative within the
exclusive sanctuary of the school grounds. Natural girls are good girls, whose
posture, dress, behaviour, and dispositions are consistently depicted as appropriate
for their gender and social status as elite schooling subjects.
The heteronormativity within the ‘boarding school’ pages of the websites also
produces the school grounds as places where some people can walk freely, and
others—queer girls, at-risk students, disabled students, rebellious students—are
conspicuously absent. Here, it is clear that there exist within the spaces of these
schools what Alexander and Knowles call “territorial notions of space” (2005, p.
6), wherein spaces can be owned and possessed by particular groups of people,
and in which people can appear to belong or otherwise to specific spaces. As
feminist geographers have recently argued, moral geographies or specific kinds of
emotional and empathetic investments and morally infused identities are
inextricably tied to specific spaces and places (Cresswell, 1996; Little, 2007; Pini,
Mayes & Boyer, 2013). This is particularly evident in the ‘private’ and ‘homely’
space of the private school, wherein the school has ultimate control in regulating
the make-up of the student body. In these spaces, subjectivities and conduct
aligned to the social class, gender, and heterosexual order of the school are
privileged, and at-risk, disabled, queer, poor, and working-class subjectivities are
conspicuously excluded.
Images of homogeneous and happy gender normative bodies within the schools
thus orient prospective parents and students toward notions of individual and
collective happiness and harmony. Boarders who embrace these norms are situated
as both good and happy, among their peers and the school community more
broadly. As Ahmed notes, “groups cohere around a shared orientation towards
some things as being good, treating some things and not others as the cause of
happiness” (2008b, p. 11). Inclusion and happiness of the boarding student in these
images is contingent on managing one’s subjecthood in relation to the collective
norms reiterated within the elite schooling context. Norms of gender and sexuality
in these elite school settings bear the tacit promise of happiness; “if you do this,
then happiness is what follows” (Ahmed, 2008a, p. 125).
Winning as a Happy Enterprise

Images of victorious students on sporting fields are emblazoned upon 10 of the
12 websites examined, with children depicted high-fiving, holding up trophies,
and jumping in the air after victories. School C, for example, contains an
embedded video showing boys in the foreground holding up a football trophy,
which is superimposed over an image of boys high-fiving immediately after the
victory. The dominance of boys within the images of sporting victory produces
sporting achievement as a sign of masculine success. Predominantly these victories
are related to rugby, the ‘good’ Anglo-Celtic tradition of all-boys’ elite schools in
Australia (Light & Kirk, 2000), with rowing and cricket also featured. What is
particularly interesting about the rugby successes is the cultural meaning associated
with rugby. To win at the ‘elite school sport’ of rugby is to be among the upper
echelon of social class elites. Furthermore, rugby’s hyper-physicality offers the
ideal semiotic opportunity to promote masculinity, reproducing “a traditional,
hegemonic form of masculinity” (Light & Kirk, 2000, p. 163) reliant on “the
production of physical force [as] a prerequisite for success” (Light & Kirk, 2001,
p. 85). The depiction of smiling faces celebrating rugby victories in the all-boys’
and co-educational elite school websites, therefore, reinforces both a commitment
to elitism and a particularly physical form of dominant masculinity, while also
demarcating it as ‘happy’ vis-à-vis the inherent ‘goodness’ of success.
Consumers of these images of happy ‘winning’ students are invited to
anticipate the sporting event in a certain way: to view the event expecting
happiness to come from winning, not from playing. Winning, we suggest, is a far
more exclusionary act than playing. Yet in these images, winning is foregrounded
as the more socially desirable outcome than playing. This is underscored in a
montage on the School F website which features a football team huddled together
with celebratory smiles, as if they had just scored a goal or won a game. Winning
and happiness have a relational impact in these images. The children are happy
because they are winners not because they are players.
Other websites similarly depict fit, well-toned bodies executing tennis shots or
lunging out of the water mid-stroke. These images, too, represent elite sporting
bodies—as exemplified by the refined movements and toned bodies of schoolboys
and girls. However, these bodies are not smiling, but rather are depicted in action
shots (Caldwell, 2005) in which the dominant expression is focus. In one all-girls’
school website, for example, a girl riding mid-hurdle on horseback is shown with
an intensely focused face, eyes on the landing point and brow furrowed with
determination. Rather than depicting happiness as attained, we suggest that these
images of focus imply happiness as ahead. The emphasis, again, is on joy in
winning, not playing: when we win we can smile.
Winning is a concept defined by its proximity to the top of social hierarchies
(Light & Kirk, 2000). It is a concept entwined with neoliberalist notions of
competitivism, winners-versus-losers, and outdoing others. While football may
have the potential to generate ‘happy diversity’ through the provision of “a level
playing field” (Ahmed, 2008a, p. 123) based on an aspiration and talent; elite
school websites emphasise hyper-masculinity and winning as exclusionary middle-
class ideals. Winning as an elite accomplishment sits in stark contrast to social
democratic notions of collaboration and collectivism, and happiness associated
with winning is framed as proximate to power. To have access to the cultural,
social and economic capital of elite schooling enables and guarantees sporting
wins, through which happiness is conferred to students. Whether in education or
in sport, to be powerful and successful, hence superior, is to be happy.
This message continues elsewhere on the School F website, where a circuit
montage of nine images on the homepage—four containing smiling students—
have the accompanying headings ‘Dare to achieve’, ‘Lead’, ‘Excel’, and ‘Grow’.
Again, occupying a place at the pinnacle of social hierarchies is reinforced as
furnishing the conditions for happiness. These children who have ‘excelled’ are
smiling: they are happy elites. The image equates attendance at the school with
the acquisition of winning, elite aptitudes that will orient students towards an
ostensibly happy life. Happiness connotes winning, leading and excelling as
desirable attributes, consistent with neoliberalist competitivist ideals and economic
notions of success.
While the images of winners and leaders are produced as ideal, they are also
explicitly tied to notions that collective happiness and worth are secured by
participation in, and success in, sport. Above one image of a sporting success on
the School F website is a caption:
The great sense of team-spirit and unity that exists at the college can be
seen at the many sporting events when the entire college community
comes out to support the [School F] boys.
(School F)
The children who have met the school’s ideal of being ‘winners’ are rewarded
through collective adulation. Their bodies are watched and lauded under the
banner of ‘support’. The sport is placed below the boys, so that the community
comes to watch the home players, not the game itself; they are there to “support
the … boys”. Such a framing strategy, in which winners are the foremost image,
constitutes the school as a place where sporting winners are placed first. Winning
is the goal through which individual and collective happiness is attained.
We are reminded of Ahmed’s contention that, “happiness is an orientation”
(2008b, p. 10) insomuch as certain activities or objects are understood as good
because they are happy. That is to say, by constructing winning as a happy
enterprise, these schools frame winning as something that is individually and
socially desirable. What are left outside of these images are notions of play,
creativity, camaraderie, and physical wellbeing. Without inclusion of these
notions within the images, a narrow and individualistic sporting narrative
emerges: our school produces winners, so join our school and become a winner.
Conclusion
In this chapter, we have argued that elite school websites promote happiness as
both a commodity and an entitlement that can be acquired by attendance at a
particular school. As one of the first points of contact between parents and
schools, one of the primary functions of school websites is to explain to prospective
clients what they can expect to get for their money (Drew, 2013). It is thus
important to read these websites as a form of marketing within the highly
competitive schooling sectors in Australia. A key promise made by schools via
this form of marketing is happiness. Over and again, the school websites we
examined reiterate that happiness comes about as a result of attending the school,
as is exemplified in this quote from the Principal’s page on the School F website:
We are here to help boys, entrusted to us by their parents, to find genuine

fulfilment, happiness and security in their lives. Our support and
encouragement goes far beyond the time students leave us at graduation. As
a college community we take great joy and strength from our ongoing
relationship with our Old Boys and their families. To be part of the Joeys
family is truly a gift for life.
(School F)
This implies that students can attain the social class status and cultural capital
that the school has accrued over time (Gaztambide-Fernández, 2009) and carry it
with them throughout their lives. Attending such a school is not simply a matter
of acquiring an education, but it also involves the acquisition of lifelong identities,
social status, and networks. In such narratives, attendance at the school involves
purchasing a way of life associated with happiness accrued through alignment to
the gendered, sexed, and social class norms preferred, promoted, and preserved
through school participation. Consumption of an elite education, in this sense, is
not just to purchase a product, but to “assemble a way of life” (Rose, 1999/1990,
p. 230) which both endorses and aspires towards images of privilege which, it is
implied, will ultimately lead to happiness for the children and their parents.
We have also highlighted the ways in which discursive proximity to notions
of happiness can frame exclusionary imaginaries as individually and socially
desirable. The happiness of the gendered bodies in the websites constructs gender
norms as happy norms. By being a normatively gendered body, happiness could
follow. As Ahmed (2008b) puts it, “happiness means … living a certain kind of
life” (p. 12), or being a certain kind of person. It is thus our contention that the
use of happiness in these texts is a rhetorical device that compels viewers to
consider the exclusionary norms of the schools as being good and desirable,
specifically because they can lead to personal happiness.
We concur with Ahmed’s contention that happiness should be read as a
discursive emotion, with texts informing viewers about ways of being that might
lead to happiness even before those ways of being are materially encountered.
According to Ahmed:
the judgement that certain objects are ‘happy’ is already made, before they
are even encountered. Certain objects are attributed as the conditions for
happiness so that we arrive ‘at’ them with an expectation of how we will
be affected by them … happiness is an expectation of what follows.
(2008b, p. 11)
The school promotional website, then, “inevitably ‘produces’ what it claims

merely to represent” (Butler, 1990, p. 5)—through representation, the website
constructs normatively gendered, heterosexual, winning, and elite subjectivities
as happy—and therefore good and desirable—subjectivities. The happiness of being/
becoming an elite social subject, these websites imply, is what students will get
for being a certain kind of student, and what parents can expect in exchange for
their school fees. As Ahmed (2008b) states, happiness “is promised through
proximity to certain objects” (p. 11). It “directs us to certain objects, as if they are
the necessary ingredients for a good life” (p. 11). Yet these happiness narratives
are implicated in demarcating the space of the elite private school as exclusionary—
as schools that are for people who aspire to educational happiness in its commodified
form, and not for others who fall outside its frames of reference. Analysis of these
websites, we suggest, warrants a re-thinking of the notion of happiness. We read

these texts as producing happiness narratives through which parents and students
are invited to participate in forms of education associated with achievement,
success, winning, and social status. We also read them as producing exclusionary
ideals and significant limitations with respect to what is able to constitute
happiness and happy subjectivities within these schools.
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6
OLD BOY NETWORKS
The Relationship Between Elite Schooling,
Social Capital, and Positions of Power in
British Society
Shane Watters
Introduction
Scholars of social stratification have long suggested a relationship between elite
schooling and obtaining high status positions in society. In Britain studies of elites
have persistently cited an ‘old boy’s network’ of social ties as a key mechanism for
gaining employment in government and a number of key professions. However,
documentary evidence of the existence of old boy’s networks and how they relate
to the elite public schools to which they are associated is in extremely short supply.
More broadly, there have only been limited attempts to bring together and
critically analyse data regarding the link between private schooling and esteemed
employment destinations. This chapter offers a quantitative and theoretical analysis
of the relationship between private schooling (in its various forms) and positions of
power in British society, and utilises new web-based resources to provide evidence
of the existence and structure of ‘old boy’s networks’ in Britain. The chapter puts
forward two primary arguments. Firstly, that there is sufficient existing data to
identify a strong longitudinal correlation between private schooling and high status
employment in Britain; and secondly, that ‘old boy’s networks’ in Britain are
structured in such a way as to assist their members to attain employment in
particular high status professions and areas of business.
Career Benefits of Private Schooling

Established empirical research regarding the link between private schooling and
esteemed employment destinations has tended to focus on sampling the educational
backgrounds of high status professionals. Boyd (1973) examined the educational
backgrounds of senior figures in the civil service, embassies, the army, the air force,
102 Shane Watters
the navy, the judiciary, the Church of England and clearing banks at four decadal
stages in the period from 1939 to 1971. His findings clearly show, across all the
afore-mentioned occupational areas, and at every stage sampled, that a consistent
majority had attended elite ‘public schools’.1 Unfortunately, the contemporary
strength of his findings are somewhat diminished by their age and the professions
sampled. This said, the data can be reinforced by more recent investigations. For
instance, the Sutton Trust’s study (2007) of the “Education backgrounds of 500
leading figures” in British society comes to very similar conclusions. It also utilises
a largely different, and arguably more up-to-date, range of professions and
employment destinations. That is, law, politics, medicine, journalism and business,
comparing data mainly gathered in the mid- to late 1980s to records from 2007. In
all cases, with the exception of politics, the study reveals that 50% and above of the
sampled “leading figures” were former “independent school”2 (an interchangeable
name for private school in Britain) pupils. That politics differs from other categories
may be partly accounted for by the amount of public scrutiny the profession is
subjected to, and the fact that politicians are meant to be representing the views of
the majority. It can also be noted that there are significant disparities between
political parties with, for example, 54% of Conservative MPs coming from private
schools and only 15% of Labour MPs (Sutton Trust, 2010).
The strength of the correlations made in both studies is not fully apparent until
placed in the context of the proportion of school aged students who attended
private schools for the periods examined, some 5–7% (Walford, 1986; Sutton
Trust, 2007). In sum, there is a stark disproportionality here between the number
of students educated in private schools in Britain and the share of top positions
these students obtain. According to the Sutton Trust’s (2007) study even those
leading figures sampled that did not attend private schools generally came from
‘selective’ rather than ‘normal’ state schools. In the most extreme example, out of
the 100 high court judges sampled in 2007, 70% hailed from private schools, 30%
from state schools and, out of this 30%, only 2% came from ‘normal’ state
comprehensives. What is perhaps even more striking, in terms of trends in social
mobility and stratification, is that between the sampling carried out by the Sutton
Trust in the mid- to late 1980s and the more recent examination in 2007, there
has only been a marginal decline in representation of those from private schools.
This amounted to 58% in the mid- to late 1980s, reducing to 53% in 2007. Even
this slight improvement in the progression of those stemming from state education
is questionable as the business or ‘CEO’ category used may not be appropriate.
Here, it should be recognized that there has been internationalisation of those at
the top of UK companies (Held et al., 1999), and this is likely to partly account
for the decline in those educated at British private schools. Removing this category
results in only a 1.75% decline in the representation of those from private schools
in the top professions and areas of business over the last 20 or so years.
One of the key methodological concerns with both the studies reviewed
above is that they rely on relatively small, subjectively determined occupational
Old Boy Networks 103
groupings. With regard to the size of the samples it would have improved
credibility if figures were, where possible, set against the total in any given
occupation. For example, by performing a somewhat crude analysis using
Government websites (Parliamentary Website, 2012; Judiciary Website, 2012) it
is possible to calculate that the hundred high court judges cited for the Sutton
Trust’s study (2007) accounted for over half of the total high court judges in the
country. In another such case, the 100 members of parliament sampled constitute
15% of the total number in Britain. In this context the results from both samples
are statistically significant. The Sutton Trust’s study (2007) is also distinct in its
methodology in that it focused only on the top representatives of each professional
grouping. For instance, the hundred medics examined were selected from those
serving “on the Councils of the medical royal colleges or other national
representative bodies” (Sutton Trust, 2007, p. 3).
Problems regarding bias in occupational group selection can be mitigated by
examining general economic and educational benefits of attending private
schools. Here, Green et al. (2010) give a rare statistical insight into this
phenomenon by utilising a range of extensive samples from the National Child
Development Study (NCDS), the 1970 British Cohort Study (BCS70), and the
British Household Panel Survey (BHPS) to arguably form a representative test
group. The NCDS and BCS70 are used as the primary instruments to test the
hypothesis that wages and educational attainment are increased by attending
private schools. Green et al. (2010) employ two convenient variables; education,
measured by degree acquisition of participants at the age of 23, and earnings,
determined by participants’ ‘hourly rate’ at the age of 33. They then set these
against whether participants were state or privately educated in order to make
inferences. There are two central characteristics that make this research pioneering
and creditable. Firstly, the research combines two extensive samples to arguably
form a representative test group. For instance, the samples for both the NCDS
and BCS70 each account for over four and a half thousand participants, with the
two cohorts selected from different time periods. Secondly, the study attempts to
control for a range of factors not engaged with in the previously mentioned
studies, such as the child’s cognitive ability before entering education and their
family background. The general conclusion reached after incorporating all
controls is that in both differentials, education and earnings, performance of
privately educated individuals has “risen significantly over time” in comparison
to those who were state educated (Green et al., 2010, p. 18). Despite this study’s
merits, its narrow focus on income does not engage directly with access to
prestigious professions. It would have also been useful if it detailed how the
controls used for parental social class were determined (as it does with cognitive
ability3). In respect to these shortcomings, it is important to recognise this is a
discussion paper rather than a completed body of work.
One aspect which is inconsistent across all of the literature reviewed is the
parameters used to define elite schools. For example, the Sutton Trust’s study (2007)
104 Shane Watters
uses the term “Independent Schools”, Boyd (1973) refers to “Public Schools” and
Green et al. (2010) to “Private Schools”. This is important as the name used can
equate to a difference in the catchment of schools encompassed. For instance, the
term ‘Public Schools’ generally refers to the most elite and distinguished private
schools. This was once defined as any member of the Headmasters’ Conference
(HMC); however, this is no longer such a useful measure as the HMC has expanded
dramatically to take in a large number of new schools (Walford, 1991). ‘Independent’
or ‘Private schools’ on the other hand can relate to any school which is not run/
funded by the State (Ball, 1997). None of the studies above adequately explain these
differences or account for them with regard to data gathering and findings. Failure
to distinguish top-level schools from the rest of the independent or private sector is
further problematized by the fact that many commentators (Bamford, 1967; Scott,
1982; Walford, 1984) attach unique advantageous qualities to these institutions.
The foremost of these, known commonly as the ‘Old Boy Network’, is a particular
type of social capital, which relates closely to career progression (Scott, 1982; Green
et al., 2010; Walford, 1986). Defining and understanding the ‘Old Boy Network’
in Britain is explored through the following theoretical analysis and the primary
research presented in this chapter.
Theoretical Considerations and Limitations of Current Research

Ostensibly the studies above converge to identify a strong longitudinal correlation
between private schooling (in its various forms) and positions of power. The
possible problems with this correlation are not apparent until placed under a
theoretical microscope. Here, Bourdieu (1986, p. 248) and Lukes (2005, p. 29),
in particular, suggest that there are a number of elements that may have been
“disguised” or “covert” in terms of their power from earlier investigations, and
that these should be disaggregated and considered. For example, application of
Bourdieuian forms of capital suggest that children are receiving a transmission of
“cultural capital” (that is, crudely put, the advantage an individual gains, with
regard to social progression, from personal dispositions, knowledge, objects and
habits) long before entering the school system. A child born into an upper-class
family, for instance, almost immediately starts accruing characteristics such as a
certain accent and vocabulary. These “embodied” elements are also supplemented
throughout the individual’s life by what Bourdieu coins “social capital” (Bourdieu,
1986, pp. 247–250). Social capital differs from cultural capital in that it refers to
the benefits a person obtains through the social networks they are part of, or can
access. Here, it is important to engage with the distinctions that exist between
Bourdieu’s and Putnam’s concepts of social capital. While both are concerned
with the existence of and operationalising of social networks, Bourdieu’s
orientation is towards critical examination of the mechanisms of social
reproduction whereas Putnam (1995) sees social capital as a “good” to be
identified and then developed and enhanced through social programmes.
One key criticism of Bourdieu’s (1986) focus on capital influences could be

seen as the limited weight he attributes to the innate cognitive ability of the
individual. Here, applying findings from Feinstein’s (2006) study of 2,457 pre-
school children is instructive. On one hand it calls into question the weight
Bourdieu (1986) attaches to innate ability by demonstrating that children display
substantial differences in cognitive ability even as early as 22 months. On the
other hand Feinstein’s (2006) findings show that children displaying low-level
cognitive abilities from high socio-economic status families overtake children
showing high cognitive abilities from low socio-economic status families as early
as 78 months. This latter finding to some extent corroborates Bourdieu’s (1986)
assertions with regard to the influence capital has from the ‘outset’ (p. 249) on
educational achievement. Feinstein’s (2006) study represents one of many
important inroads that have started to be made into disaggregating non-curricular
advantages. Other such works include Nash (2010) on the relationship between
early cognitive development and class origin, Esping-Andersen (2004) on social
inheritance and Horvat, Weininger, and Lareau (2003) on parental networks.
Despite these important steps forward, there is one non-pedagogical aspect
that has lacked empirical scrutiny. That is, the relationship between access to elite
schooling and entry to prestigious professions, specifically the role of public
school alumni networks, and what is widely, if anachronistically, known as the
‘Old Boy Network’ (Scott, 1982; Walford, 1984, 1986). The basic premise here
is that alumni from elite public schools can access an informal network of
connections in top professions that enhance their career prospects. From a
theoretical perspective, the constitution of this network may be seen as an
example of what Lukes (2005) refers to as the third dimension of power. The
third dimension is distinguished by Lukes from the first and second dimensions of
power in that the former are concerned with processes of decision-making,
whether overt as in the first dimension or overt or covert as in the second
dimension. Within what Lukes has characterised as his third dimension of power,
analysis shifts from the confines of decision-making to a wider perspective in
which power is exercised through influencing the emergence of potential issues.
As such, power operates through circumscribing the parameters of legitimate
public discourse. In the present context, a dearth of research and public debate on
the links between elite public and private schools and prestigious occupations
may itself be seen as linked to the exercise of power.
What is perplexing is that a range of research both refers to, and attributes
value to the ‘Old Boy Network’ (Scott, 1982; Walford, 1984, 1986; Green et al.,
2010), and yet, there is almost no substantiated evidence of its existence or the
core facets of how it is operationalised. The extremely limited research that has
been conducted dates back to the 1950s (Heward, 1984). This consisted of using,
inter alia, letter archives of correspondence between parents and a specific public
school to chart how an alumni network helped facilitate occupational attainment.
Unfortunately, the size of the sample catchment used, and the timing of execution
106 Shane Watters
(1930–50), makes the investigation’s findings both antiquated and profoundly

questionable in terms of their ability to represent wider trends.
The ‘Old Boy Network’4

The following section offers an introduction to, and discussion of, new empirical
research regarding elite public school alumni networks. This includes an outline
of the methodology employed and the identification of seven salient network
features.
Methodology
The units of analysis selected were principally derived5 from a list of the most elite
public schools established through Walford’s (1984, 1986, and 1991) extensive
research in the area. This list consists of some 28 schools divided into two sub-
groups: The Eton Group and The Rugby Group. These informal groupings have
been formed through mutual recognition amongst the schools themselves, the
entry requirement literally being schools that are considered to be “something
like Rugby” or Eton (Walford, 1986, p. 10). It is worth noting here that these
schools have now, in public at least, integrated themselves into the much larger
private school sector (Walford, 1991). Although the list offered by Walford is by
no means definitive, it provides an undiluted snapshot of the majority of top
public schools. This is achieved by incorporating the majority of Clarendon
Commission schools (Clarendon, 1964),6 and many of the original members of
the HMC. In the content analysis undertaken seven specific questions were asked
of each of ‘unit of analysis’ or school website. That is:
1. whether the school maintains a secure alumni network,

2. the number of alumni clubs and societies present,
3. whether networks are structured towards specific elite professions and career
trajectories,
4. whether the school has its own registered Masonic lodge for alumni,
5. whether the school maintains a distinct international network which alumni
can access,
6. whether a careers mentoring or advisory scheme is operated by the school
and, finally,
7. whether the school connects with other selected schools in terms of both
formal links through the HMC and informal meetings through sports fixtures
and other inter-school competitions.
A number of these foci require some unpacking. For instance, the term “secure
alumni network” refers to an alumni network that is only accessible through
membership; the requirement of which being that you are a current or former
student of that particular public school. ‘Alumni clubs and societies’ are distinct
subgroups of an ‘old boy’ or alumni network tailored towards a specific area of
interest. These range from groupings formed around sports and hobbies to more
formalised groupings focused on particular areas of business and commerce.
The research questions were emergent, in that they were determined through
a process of cross comparison. Here, the first five units of analysis were juxtaposed
to allow for a number of commonalities to be identified. The common elements
identified were then tested for consistency against the remaining 23 units of
analysis. The key purpose of this stage was to ascertain the extent to which the
elements identified initially remained constant. Where new common elements
emerged these were added to the search criteria, and the process was reset so that
the new elements could be tested against previously investigated units of analysis.
Any element that failed to return mutual content across 50% of the units of
analysis sampled was then removed from the final matrix. The methodological
approach used enabled networks to be refined to a succinct list of prevalent
characteristics: testing, adapting, retesting and reducing the categorisations or
coding stems from traditional ‘content analysis’ techniques (Krippendorff, 2004;
Bernard & Ryan, 2010). The crucial methodological strength here is that peers
and other researchers can use the table produced, and websites cited, to verify the
frequency of the network characteristics.
The list of prevalent network characteristics then informed the extraction of
qualitative citations from the units of analysis with the purpose of further detailing the
structure of the networks and ways in which they are operationalised. Here it is
worth highlighting that this research has clear limitations in terms of the range of
sources used and the depth to which each network is able to be examined. Through
the compilation of this data it is already evident that additional quantitative and
qualitative investigation regarding the size of the individual networks, their interaction
with each other, and the number of members who have benefited through initial
position attainment and progression within a given field, would enrich the data and
help to establish greater veracity in any inferences that are drawn. Future research in
this area would also greatly benefit, in terms of validity, from corroboration from
sources independent of the schools themselves. This is due to the schools having a
perverse incentive to overstate the benefits of the networks as a means to justify their
significant fees. Although it is important to recognise all of these limitations, the
intention here is to create a preliminary platform to facilitate further discussion and
research, rather than an attempt to present conclusive evidence.
Results and Analysis

The first striking characteristic of the data sets (Tables 6.1 and 6.2) is that all of
the 28 schools sampled displayed significant evidence of operating ‘Old Boys
Networks’.
TABLE 6.1 The Eton Group
Public school Secure alumni network Number of alumni Networks structured towards School and ‘old Distinct Alumni careers Formal and informal
clubs and societies specific elite professions and boy’ lodge international mentoring or connections with other
career trajectories (freemasonry) network advisory scheme listed schools
Eton The Old Etonian 23 Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes
Association
Dulwich The Old Alleynians 13 Yes Yes Yes Not listed/ Yes
College Network accessible
Bryanston The Old Not listed/ Yes Not listed/ Yes Yes Yes
School Bryanstonians accessible accessible
Network
Highgate The Old 7 Not fully listed/ Yes Yes Not listed/ Not listed/ Yes
School Cholmeleian Society accessible accessible accessible
King’s School The Old King’s 7 Not fully listed/ Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes
(Canterbury) Scholars Association accessible
Marlborough The Marlburian 12 Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes
College Club
St Paul’s School The Old Pauline 3 Listed, Area of Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes
Club the Site under
development
Sherborne The Old Shirburnian Not listed/ Yes Yes Not listed/ Not listed/ Yes
School Society accessible accessible accessible
Tonbridge The Old 10 Yes Yes Yes Not listed/ Yes
School Tonbridgian Society accessible
University The Old Gowers 7 Yes Yes Not listed/ Not listed/ Yes
College School Club accessible accessible
Westminster The Old 19 Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes
School Westminsters Online
TABLE 6.2 The Rugby Group
Public school Secure alumni network Number of alumni Networks School and ‘old Distinct Alumni careers Formal and informal
clubs and societies structured towards boy’ lodge international mentoring or connections with other
specific elite (freemasonry) network advisory listed schools
professions and scheme
career trajectories
Bradfield College The Old Bradfieldians 11 Not listed/ Yes Yes Not listed/ Yes
Online accessible accessible
Charterhouse The Old Carthusian Club 35 Yes Yes Yes Not listed/ Yes
accessible
Cheltenham College The Cheltonian 6 Not listed/ Yes Yes Yes Yes
Association accessible
Clifton College The Old Cliftonian Society 8 Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes
Harrow School The Harrow Association 16 Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes
Malvern College The Old Malvernians 6 Not listed/ Yes Not listed/ Not listed/ Yes
accessible accessible accessible
Monkton Combe The Old Monktonians Not listed/ Not listed/ Not listed/ Not listed/ Not listed/ Not listed/accessible
School Club accessible accessible accessible accessible accessible
Oundle School The Old Oundelian Club 17 Yes Yes Yes Yes Not listed/accessible
Radley College The Old Radleian Society 15 Yes Yes Not listed/ Yes Yes
accessible
Repton School The Old Reptonian 5 Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes
Society
Rugby School Rugbeians On-line 14 Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes
TABLE 6.2 (continued)
Public school Secure alumni network Number of alumni Networks School and ‘old Distinct Alumni careers Formal and informal
clubs and societies structured towards boy’ lodge international mentoring or connections with other
specific elite (freemasonry) network advisory listed schools
professions and scheme
career trajectories
St Edward’s School The Old St Edwardians 11 Not listed/ Yes Yes Yes Yes
Society accessible
Shrewsbury School The Old Salopian Club 9 Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes
Stowe School The Old Stoic Society 8 Not fully listed/ Yes Not listed/ Yes Not listed/ Yes
accessible accessible accessible
Uppingham School The Old Uppinghamians 6 Not listed/ Yes Not listed/ Yes Yes
Association accessible accessible
Wellington College The Old Wellingtonian 13 Not listed/ Yes Yes Not listed/ Yes
Society accessible accessible
Winchester College The Community of Old 12 Not listed/ Not listed/ Not listed/ Not listed/ Yes
Wykehamists accessible accessible accessible accessible
Source: The data in Tables 6.1 and 6.2 were compiled using the official websites of some of Britain’s leading public schools.
The vast majority entitle their network, and members of it, by combining the idiom
‘Old’ with a modification of the school’s name using a belonging suffix. For instance,
someone from Eton is part of the ‘Old Etonian Association’ and is referred to by the
school as an ‘Old Etonian’. This is not to say membership of the alumni network is
always automatic; former students normally have to opt in or out after leaving the
school, depending on the system operated. Branding former students in this way, and
encouraging students to see themselves in this way, may foster an on-going connection
between the school and former students and vice versa. Here, parallels can be drawn
with Bourdieu’s (1986) assertions regarding the creation of social capital by
“application of a common name” (p. 251). Bourdieu’s concept dictates that for the
name to achieve benefits to its incumbents it would have to hold some resonance
with proximal social structures. In the case of public school alumni networks, this
could mean spheres outside of the schools, for instance professions having existing
members who both recognise and attribute credit to the use of a particular ‘Old Boy’
title. According to Bourdieu (1986) the degree to which individuals can levy capital
from such networks depends on two distinct factors: the size of the networks, and the
ability of those in the network to bestow benefits on the individual members. Testing
the research by the first of these principles is difficult because there is limited
information available via non-secure areas of the school’s websites regarding network
size. The information that is accessible from eight schools varies considerably,
suggesting networks ranging from as little as 800 members up to as many as 15,000.
The validity of the network size data is also questionable as it relies on citations from
the schools themselves, without corroboration from membership lists.
One of the most important research findings is that the exact size of the
networks may not be as relevant as the way in which they are structured in terms
of facilitating access to specific professions or areas of business. Here, the majority
of schools sampled showed signs of structuring their networks towards particular
employment destinations. The structuring takes two forms: the establishment of
tailored occupational clubs or societies, and bespoke networking events focused
on certain career trajectories. What follows is a précis of extracts from units of
analysis demonstrating the common type of groups and events found.
Law
We are very grateful to commercial law firm Lewis Silkin for generously
hosting this first meeting of Old Alleynians in the Law at its Chancery Lane
offices. The firm has strong connections to the College dating from the
time of its founder, Lewis Silkin, and his son, John, who was, like his two
brothers, an Old Alleynian.
(Old Alleynians Law Professional Interest Group, 2013)
Medicine
The Medical Group sets up events between all Old Cholmeleians in the
medical, dental and associated professions (including veterinarians,
112 Shane Watters
physiotherapists, psychologists and psychiatrists) and Old Cholmeleians

interested in entering those professions. The next event will be held at the
Royal College of Surgeons.
(Old Cholmeleians Medical Group, 2012)
Arts and media
The inaugural Old Marlburians Film, TV & Theatre Event at the Only
Running Footman in Mayfair was a great success … some Old Marlburians
arrived on the way to or from work, including Jack Whitehall, who
managed to pop in just prior to his live performance nearby, and Carola
Stewart who appeared with great style towards the end of the event having
come directly from filming. We were delighted when Damian Jones, who
produced the Oscar winning film The Iron Lady, made a surprise
appearance too.
(Old Marlburians Film, TV & Theatre Group, 2013)
Finance
Old Harrovians who work in the financial industries held its inaugural
meeting at the City of London Club on 1 October 2008 … attendees
included 130 Old Harrovians in financial services, financial consultancy
and equity trading.
(Old Harrovians City Club Committee, 2012)
Property
The 6th Annual Rugbeian Society Real Estate Dinner took place on
Thursday 8 November 2012 at the Army & Navy Club Pall Mall, London.
Just over 40 Rugbeians and current and past parents who work in the
property business and related professions attended.
(Old Rugbeian Society, 2012)
Notably, the groups and tailored events displayed consistently, although not
exclusively, concerned five specific professions and areas of business: Law,
Medicine, Arts and Media, Finance, and Property Management. Interestingly
there are clear similarities between these and the professions identified by the
Sutton Trust’s study (2007) as being disproportionately represented by those
deriving from private schools.
The units of analysis also give a variety of information regarding what services
networks, and specific groups thereof, provide. These commonly include:
tailored networking events by occupational area with established ‘Old Boys’
working in that particular profession, professional mentoring from established
‘Old Boys’, and internships and work experience placements offered to recent
alumni from established ‘Old Boys’ in prestigious firms. Importantly the services
provided indicate that being a member of an ‘Old Boys Network’ involves active
participation as opposed to dormant membership. Indeed, the photographic and
textual evidence from 24 of the sampled schools suggests a vibrant culture of

well-attended networking events in extremely prestigious venues, and significantly
interaction between a range of young and old members. Often this includes
older, more established, network members arranging career orientated networking
events at a venue connected to their current profession. Typical examples include
events held at Inns of Court by ‘Old Boys’ in the legal profession, events held at
City7 investment firms by ‘Old Boys’ at the head of large stockbroking companies
and events arranged by senior medical professionals at royal medical colleges.
One purpose of the networks here is succinctly encapsulated by the Old Cliftonian
Business Community (2014): “A specific network of Old Cliftonians with a
commercial interest, providing access to and from Old Cliftonians and the school
to leverage their combined knowledge to further each other’s professional
prospects.”
The function and services of the networks towards aiding in members’
professional development notably reconciles with Bourdieu’s (1986) assertions
identified above regarding acknowledgement and appreciation from proximal
social structures, in that they suggest both recognition and favoured treatment
from existing members of professions. The services provided also share the
common characteristics of enabling new alumni to make personal contact with
senior staff in a range of top professions. This is a potential key advantage as it
allows members to single themselves out from formal application based routes. It
is not suggested that ‘Old Boys’ will not have to go through a formal employment
process, but rather that prospects for being offered positions can be enhanced
through personal connections. This arguably represents what Lukes (2005) has
described as a covert exercise of power. The job application process, to the extent
to which it is observable, goes through a conventional procedure. Power is covert
in the sense that power relations are at play in selecting candidates from a particular
background while ostensibly presenting employment within a meritocratic
system. The job application process alluded to above may also be illuminated by
Bourdieu’s (1979) work regarding classes and classifications that suggests a process
of perception and recognition. When applied in this case, network membership
may indicate a particular mix of characteristics and competences positively
recognised by employers as signalling a certain social class suitable to specific
occupations. Here, contemporary economic theorists argue that this is not so
much a case of applying undue bias, but rather that ‘old boy networks’ constitute
a valuable informal mechanism whereby employers can obtain ‘hidden’
information on prospective employees (Inci & Parker, 2012, p. 30), thereby
allowing firms to make hiring decisions with greater assurity. In the case of public
school old boys networks, it could be argued that employers presuppose
membership entails minimum levels of both cultural capital (Bourdieu, 1986), in
the form of accent, dress, manners and human capital (Halpern, 2005), in terms
of knowledge and ability.
114 Shane Watters
Green et al. (2010) above highlight the educational benefits of attending

private schools. However, whether these lead to the development of distinct
characteristics synonymous with those needed for high-status professions remains
highly questionable. Furthermore, there is a significant problem with addressing
issues of social reproduction if those arbitrating what constitutes required capital
levels are largely members of the same network. Here, a combination of earlier
data (Sutton Trust, 2007; Scott, 1982; Boyd, 1973), regarding the disproportionate
representation in top professions for those hailing from private or public schools,
and network data presented in this chapter certainly indicates this may be the
case. If correct, this would signify maintenance of the status quo, effectively
advantaging those inside the network, but restricting those outside of it. A further
issue regards the networks as a mechanism in social reproduction, that is, that
existing established members in a given profession may have a vested interest in
employing staff who attended the same public school in an effort to make sure
the value attributed to attending a given school is continued (Bourdieu, 1986;
Curtis, 2000). In other words, by maintaining the presence of ‘Old Boys’ in
particular professions and areas of business, established ‘Old Boys’ in these areas
are able to reaffirm their own worth.
Although the effect of ‘Old Boys’ already in prestigious professions trying to
preserve their status may be important to the enduring nature of an old boy’s
network, longitudinal network maintenance is also likely to require persistent
and widespread “investment strategies” (Bourdieu, 1986, p. 252). Here, data
drawn from the schools’ websites illuminates some of the resources employed in
this respect at the institutional level. For instance a number of schools have a
whole office of professional staff dedicated to this very task. Marlborough College
as a case in point has: a Club Secretary, an Alumni Relations Manger, a
Development Officer, a Website & Publications Manager and an Information &
Communications Officer working specifically to maintain the Marlburian Club
(Marlborough School Development Team, 2012). Most networks are also headed
by a President, who tends to be a distinguished old boy acting as a figurehead and
champion. The type of structure identified here only represents one aspect of
school level network maintenance and development. On top of this schools can
mobilise an array of individuals with semi-formal roles within the network. For
instance, St Paul’s School’s Old Pauline Club has 55 Vice Presidents, and 57
heads and members of various sub-committees (The Old Pauline Club Committee
Membership List, 2013–14). However, the quantity here may not be as prevalent
to bestowing advantages on network members as the quality of the individuals
involved in terms of their prestige. In the example of the Old Pauline Club these
include Knights (CBEs), admirals, judges, professors, Lords and the current
Chancellor of the Exchequer, George Osborne, as one of its Vice Presidents
(Cabinet Office, 2013).
One further facet of the networks is their international dimension. Here, 20
out of the 28 schools sampled, to a varying degree, displayed developed
international networks. The remaining eight schools were not necessarily

deficient in this respect, but rather that this data was not available in the non-
secure area of the websites. The network information that is available tends to
consist of an extensive list of international contacts willing to assist old boys
wishing to establish themselves in a given country. For instance The Old King’s
Association (OKS) cites an impressive and characteristic list of contacts spanning
much of the globe. When students or OKS click on a link for a given country
they see a personal message from an alumnus who is now in a prominent position.
The messages differ in content, but in general offer help with moving to/visiting
the country and, pertinently, advice on employment in their given field (The
Old Kings Association, Overseas Hon Secs, 2013). As with domestic branches of
the networks, the affluence of the individuals cited and the social capital they
represent is significant. If one excepts Bryanston School’s careers and business
networking group statements, such networks are able to provide a “rich source
of useful contacts” that can offer “career pointers and friendly advice” from
established alumni “working across a variety of industries around the globe”
(Bryanston School, Careers and Business Networking Group, 2014). Moreover,
the international networks on display transcend lists of useful potential social and
business contacts. Instead the schools manage to provide dynamic international
networks involving regular social and networking events. To achieve this, the
schools continuously recruit representatives to facilitate and maintain these
international parts or ‘chapters’ of their networks, assist with venues for meetings,
and advertise events through their websites and distinct international newsletters.
It is worth noting here that a significant number of international students now
attend British public schools: these clearly provide a fertile recruiting ground for
schools wishing to develop their international networks.
The development of the international dimension of the networks is significant
in terms of discourses regarding the relationship between education and the
global labour market. Here, Brown (2000), a prominent commentator in this
area, poses the important question of “whether social elites are increasingly
defining positional competition for credentials and jobs in international … terms”
(p. 643). The research for this chapter certainly shows evidence that elite British
public schools are aware of the threat presented by the globalisation of the labour
market, and are actively involved in preserving their position in this context. The
fact that these schools are mobilising their social capital in this way also challenges
the concept (Lauder et al., 2006, p. 319) that a global labour market will result in
increased meritocracy through the internationalisation of employment
opportunities. The networks’ abilities to cross domestic boundaries suggests that
those children whose parents can afford this type of schooling will still possess an
advantage in an international arena outside of their educational achievements. In
a not unrelated point, 24 out of 28 schools sampled had strong connections with
the Freemasons. This unanticipated finding is interesting for two notable reasons.
Firstly, it shows a distinct link between the schools and one of the biggest
116 Shane Watters
gentlemen’s organisations in the world (Ridley, 2011), and, secondly, it connects

the sampled schools as their Lodges are all members of the Public School Lodges’
Council. This is an umbrella organisation that arranges a variety of meetings and
events between members of these Old Boy Lodges. Examples of the longevity of
the link between Freemasonry and public schools, and their connections with
each other through the Public School Lodges’ Council, include Highgate School
having the oldest Freemasons Lodge in the world (The Cholmeley Lodge, 2014)
and the Old Etonian Lodge hosting “the 76th Public School Lodges’ Council
Festival” in 2009 (The Old Etonian Lodge, 2014). In addition to contact between
the schools related to Freemasonry, there are also links through events arranged
by the HMC and inter-school sports fixtures as indicated by a “Yes” in the final
column of the results table above. These fixtures and events form an important
part of the networks as they are not only for existing students, but also for alumni.
For instance, there are distinct Old Boy teams and leagues in areas such as
shooting, sailing and golf. This is significant as it shows the networks are
interrelated and continue to interact long after decoupling from education-based
contact.
Conclusion
The analysis of existing quantitative data brought together a range of sources not
previously engaged with as a body of evidence. Although strengths and weaknesses
of each source were exposed, collectively the data demonstrated a strong and
recurrent link between private schooling and high status employment in Britain.
Furthermore, both this and the subsequent theoretical analysis demonstrated that
the category ‘elite schools’ requires unpacking both in terms of differentiation
when approaching data gathering and findings, and in relation to the disaggregation
of advantages that go beyond the curricular or co-curricular. Here, the chapter
was able to break free of the confines of traditional ethnographical approaches
and utilise contemporary content analysis techniques to examine a wealth of
previously untapped data and information. Importantly, this enabled the research
to transcend merely noting the role of elite schools in the ‘social production of
advantage’ to actually beginning to evidence some of the mechanisms which
facilitate this social production. The paucity of empirical evidence regarding non-
curricular based advantages of attending elite schools highlights the significant
problems of access associated with researching elite groups in society (Aguiar &
Schneider, 2012), and the importance of adopting new methodological
approaches. Employing content analysis techniques to elites not only demonstrated
their benefits in terms of overcoming access problems, but also illustrated their
potential with regard to directing qualitative research.
A research focus on Old Boy Networks substantiates the role of alumni groups
and societies in penetrating prestigious professions. Not only were specific links
uncovered in relation to law, medicine, arts and media, finance, and property
management, but there were also clear parallels between these groupings and
those identified in prior research as containing a disproportionate number of
former private school pupils. In other words, networks are generated that enhance
access to the higher tiers of the most socially esteemed and financially beneficial
professions. Interestingly in terms of contributing to international research
undertaken by Kenway and Koh (2013) networks were not bounded within
national frameworks but rather gave former pupils access to global elite networks
not necessarily connected to or serving any one nation state. Furthermore it was
evident that British public schools are acutely aware of the importance of ensuring
their sphere of influence extends beyond national borders and have established
international networks to ensure alumni maximise their opportunities in global
markets. The research also showed that the globalisation of British public schools
extended beyond the domestic with regard to a number of schools having already
established international satellite schools in locations such as Hong Kong,
Shanghai, Tianjin, Iskandar, and Dubai, all including entry and access to associated
British Old Boy Networks. A further dimension here is the extent to which the
schools themselves recruit from global elites and enable students to develop
valuable international social networks while undertaking studies in Britain.
Theoretically, Bourdieuian concepts of capital acted as a valuable mechanism
to inform and direct the research undertaken. In particular these were able to
illuminate possible causal factors not addressed in prior studies. Significantly this
has included drawing attention to the capital accrued through social networks,
and acting as an analytical tool in terms of: aiding an examination of how the Old
Boy Networks in question interacted and maintained resonance with proximal
social structures; how the networks could be operationalised to bestow benefits
on their members; and whether necessary ‘investment strategies’ were in place to
preserve and develop these networks. The research here confirms that the
networks examined articulated all of these characteristics, and therefore, supports
Bourdieu’s foresight in these respects. Bourdieu’s work also informed a value led
examination of the resources network members had at their disposal. Here the
research suggested that individuals, having attended the listed schools, were able
to harness an impressive concentration of collective social and cultural capital.
This took the form of a range of established and influential network members
with official positions within the network structure. One symptomatic example,
from St Paul’s School, demonstrated both the capital value available in terms of
the prestige of the agents listed, and the ease to which these resources were
identifiable and accessible to new network members through the attribution of
official positions.
Notes
1 The term ‘public’ stems from the schools’ historical role in educating the poor rather
than their current incarnation as the most elite private schools in Britain.
118 Shane Watters
2 The terms ‘independent schools’ and ‘private schools’ refer to any school not run or
funded by the State. The term ‘independent’ is preferred by the private school sector
in Britain as it invokes more positive connotations.
3 That is vocabulary tests, Harris Figure Drawing Excises, standardised reading
comprehension tests, and math scores (types of tests applied dependent on age).
4 This name should be considered somewhat anachronistic as the research for the present
investigation suggests the schools’ networks are equally accessible to both male and
female alumni in cases where schools are co-educational.
5 The selected schools are intended to act as a representative sample rather than offering
a complete list of the top public schools; however, it should be recognised that King’s
College, London is also part of the Eton group, and Haileybury school has been added
to the Rugby Group since the time of Walford’s research.
6 The Clarendon Commission was a Royal Commission set up in 1861 “to inquire into
the Revenue and Management of Certain Colleges and Schools and the studies
pursued and instruction given there” (Clarendon, 1964, p. 1). Importantly the
commission report identified nine Great Public Schools.
7 City is a term that refers to the “City of London” or the banking and finance district
8 As an authenticity measure, only the official school sites, and formal links from the
official school sites, have been used in the compilation of the research (2012–2015).
Whilst web-based sources have the disadvantage of information not being static, the
range of schools examined means it is unlikely that scholars will not be able to access
similar information evidencing the central themes and information for this chapter
regarding the presence and operation of old boys’ networks.
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Websites Examined8
Eton. (2013). Old boys network information. Retrieved from http://www.etoncollege.com/
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Dulwich College. (2013). Old Boys Network Information. Retrieved from http://www.
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2014 from http://www.bryanston.co.uk/networking?rc=0
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www.kings-school.co.uk/document_1.aspx?id=1:32044&id=1:31637
Marlborough College. (2013). Old Boys Network Information. Retrieved from http://www.
marlburianclub.org/page.aspx?pid=388
St Paul’s School. (2013). Old Boys Network Information. Retrieved from http://www.
opclub.org.uk/
Sherborne School. (2013). Old Boys Network Information. Retrieved from http://www.
oldshirburnian.org.uk/
Tonbridge School. (2013). Old Boys Network Information. Retrieved from http://www.
tonbridge-school.co.uk/tonbridge-society/
University College School. (2013). Old Boys Network Information. Retrieved from: http://
www.ucs.org.uk/Welcome-to-the-Gowers
Westminster School. (2013). Old Boys Network Information. Retrieved from http://www.
oldwestminster.org.uk/
Bradfield College. (2013). Old Boys Network Information. Retrieved from http://www.
bradfieldcommunity.org.uk/OBSoc/bradfieldiansonline/Pages/default.aspx
Charterhouse. (2013). Old Boys Network Information. Retrieved from http://www.
charterhouse.org.uk/ocs
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cheltonianassociation.com/
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Harrow School. (2013). Old Boys Network Information. Retrieved from http://www.
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Malvern College. (2013). Old Boys Network Information. Retrieved from http://www.
malcol.org/old-malvernians/
Monkton Combe School. (2013). Old Boys Network Information. Retrieved from http://
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radley.org.uk/RadleianSociety.aspx
Repton School. (2013). Old Boys Network Information. Retrieved from http://www.
repton.org.uk/old-reptonian-society
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Wellington College. (2013). Old Boys Network Information. Retrieved from http://www.
wellingtoncollege.org.uk/old-wellingtonians
7
EXCLUSIVE CONSUMERS
The Discourse of Privilege in Elite Indian
School Websites
Radha Iyer
Introduction
India, a country of contrasts particularly in education, has a large variety of schools
available to children. Post-independence India has a diverse education system
that ranges from government schools, Ekal Vidyalaya, Madrassa schools1 to
government-aided private schools, un-aided private and elite private schools,
and, more recently, private, elite international schools that offer the International
Baccalaureate (IB). Private unaided schools are a heterogeneous group that range
from schools funded by private corporations, family trusts, day and boarding
institutions run by religious and non-denominational organisations to the more
recent, low end, low fee schools for the poor. Elite schools are institutions that
offer exclusive learning experiences with a selective faculty and highly controlled,
intensive academic and extracurricular activities designed to promote individual
productivity and competitiveness (Bourdieu, 1996/1989, pp. 81–85).
While scholarly focus has been on documenting the colonial and neoliberal
agenda of select elite schools (Rizvi, 2014; Srivastava, 1998) little attention has
been paid to the particular discourses and textual means employed by Indian elite
school websites to promote their education programmes. In this chapter, 21
school websites are studied through a Foucauldian discourse analysis to examine
how, through typological, demographic, historical, scholastic, and geographic
dimensions (Gaztambide-Fernández, 2009b) as illustrated through texts and
discourses online, elite schools create entities of scholastic and social distinction.
The analysis demonstrates how Indian elite schools have a similar ideology and
mode of operation to other elite schools worldwide (Kenway & Fahey, 2014;
Kenway, Fahey & Koh, 2013; Khan, 2012) in that these largely promote tradition
Exclusive Consumers 123
and modernity, consumerism and meritocracy. This focus requires an explanation

of the historical links of modern elite schools, which is outlined below.
Colonialism and the Modern Indian School

In 1835, the Macaulay Minute on Indian Education by Lord Macaulay, Chairman,
Committee of Public Instruction in British India promoted English as the medium of
instruction which became the means of novel forms of governance as it sought to
create a “class of persons Indian in blood and colour, but English in tastes, in
opinions, in morals and in intellect”.2 With English as the language of
administration in 1837, Sir Charles Wood’s despatch in 18543 deemed that
western knowledge was the most suitable, a trend that was rigorously followed
when the Crown took over in 1839. By the 1890s the school system was firmly
characterised by the perceived superiority of the colonial system where western
education in English was provided to the children of colonisers and economically
affluent natives.
As scholars (Majumdar & Mooij, 2011; Bhattacharya, 2002, p. 6) note, “the
valorisation of English education” led to forms of cultural, social capital and a
means to mark the elites. The Indian elites readily accepted the colonial rule as a
“pedagogic enterprise for the improvement of India” (Seth, 2007, p. 159) that led
to the consolidation of an elite discourse that was based not on caste or class but
on exclusion and inclusion in terms of western education. Elites and the upper
middle class had such a desire for such education that there was an outcry against
the new reforms that advocated the vernacular, as introduced by Lord Curzon,
the Viceroy of India in the 1890s; these reforms were seen to limit India’s “access
to western education and to assert dictatorial government control” (Seth, 2007,
p. 160). Western education was perceived to bring in “a whole series of
adjustments” (Seth, 2007, p. 27), and be “an instrument for the control of minds”
(Annamalai, 2004, p. 181).
A post-colonial standpoint illustrates how such knowledge became legitimate
forms that overtook local knowledge and supports Spivak’s (1988, p. 287)
comment that the colonial attempt was to erase the voice of the colonised as “in
the context of colonial production, the subaltern … cannot speak”. Post-
independence, although the Indian elites were only 6% of the total population,
they were, nevertheless, decision makers in the government (Annamalai, 2004, p.
179) and as Little (2010, p. 7) observes, “the education of the elite” received as
much priority as mass education. English as the medium of instruction being
preferred by the affluent class, the legacy of colonial education persists with
schools set by the colonisers continuing the colonial discourse through rhetoric
and through the adoption of a historically instituted education system.
As Prasad (2003) notes, within the Indian education system there is a heavy
dependence on western forms of knowledge that inculcate western hegemony
socially, culturally, economically and in their ideological content. The Cambridge
124 Radha Iyer
IGCSE (International General Certificate of Secondary Education),4 an

international school-leaving exam required by exiting secondary students in some
elite schools in India, is an example of how educational philosophies of the UK
and the west are still preferred. Similar to elite schools in the USA, UK, Australia,
and Canada (Brooks & Waters, 2014; Kenway & Fahey, 2007; Lynch & Moran,
2006; Maxwell & Maxwell, 1995; Waters & Brooks, 2015; Weis & Cipollone,
2013), Indian elite schools are exclusive learning centres that illustrate Anglophone
forms of knowledge and target Anglophone countries, primarily the UK and
USA, as favoured future destinations for higher education for their pupils. A brief
discussion on elite schools in India follows to highlight how, along with this
historical legacy, market- and consumer-oriented, neoliberal discourses are
scripted within websites.
The Indian Elite School: Local/Global Influence

Exclusive in terms of creating a space for various formal and informal forms of
social capital, elite schools craft an agentive position for students (Forbes &
Lingard, 2013) where through “a rite of institution” and through “pedagogic
action … a separate, sacred group” (Bourdieu, 1996/1989, p. 73) is created, one
that has the current and potential symbolic capital to succeed. These schools have
a stringent condition of entry and performance based on a meritocratic system
(see Koh, 2014), one that “guarantee[s] students already endowed” and only
those capable of undertaking the learning are eligible to apply (Bourdieu,
1996/1989, p. 73). A primary reason for this fundamental requirement is the elite
niche carved out for the elite alumni in high-level bureaucratic positions and to
preserve the upper-class ideals that perceive a future beyond local contexts (see
Mullen, 2009). Subsequently, the overarching colonial and neo-colonial tradition
endures with modes of teaching and learning widely adopted in the west being
implemented that permits a “mental colonialist to continue and neo-colonialism
to triumph” (Nguyen et al., 2009, p. 112).
As Rizvi (2014) and Srivastava (1998) argue, the changing political landscape
after independence with greater focus on secularism, social equity, and equality
of opportunity has meant that elite schools have had to adopt a new philosophy
where nationalist sentiments, a scientific, rational approach, and principles of civil
society (Srivastava, 1998) are emphasised. The colonial discourse of the supremacy
of English medium for instruction and western oriented education continues but
is distanced by a new national discourse that emphasises leadership, community
activities and sustainability (see Rizvi, 2014). A post-colonial reading illustrates
how, with very minimal internal difference in structure and ideology, these
schools largely support western knowledge and their progress is often marked by
their associations with the global (read western) elite groups.
Rizvi (2014) identifies two types of elite Indian schools, the old ones established
during the colonial period and the new ones that cater to the growing, wealthy
middle class. During British rule, these schools represented the superior status of
a Eurocentric worldview and retained their elite status through mimicry and, as
Srivastava (1998, p. 45), in a study of the elite Doon School observes, “display an
Otherness of the past alongside symbolic markers of … a new age and future”.
With economic liberalisation in the 1990s, the Indian economy has become
market oriented and education, as elsewhere (Carnoy, 2014; Forsey, Davies &
Walford, 2008, p. 15; see also Lingard, 2000), has become a means to achieve
economic competitiveness and is a commodity where there is greater emphasis on
excellence, performance and consumerism. Subsequently, to the two groups of elite
schools identified by Rizvi (2014), a third type of elite school can be added, the
transnational, elite institution that subscribes to a global curriculum and is oriented
to serve a global clientele and children of expatriates. While this third group does
not have a colonial heritage, these are elite due to their international curricula, a
strong corporate focus and an explicit neoliberal agenda of being market oriented.
The neoliberal market oriented turn in education is exemplified in all the elite
schools studied as these identify accountability, performance, academic and
extracurricular achievement and global affiliations as central aims of schooling
(Stromquist & Monkman, 2014). Transnational examinations such as IGCSE and
schools being a member of the Round Square5 are promoted to demonstrate the
capacity of the school to have a global standard. Aligned with this agenda, elite
schools offer greater parental choice, along with international and local learning
competitions, the IB programme, and a suite of sophisticated extracurricular
activities so that the venture is perceived as financially viable and as a truly global
programme. The preference for a multiliteracies, multimodal approach to
education, and global issues that draw on environmental, social, cultural, and
political arenas, is aimed at building future leaders and turning students into
transnational citizens who can compete in knowledge trading and knowledge
discourses. Nowhere is this more prominently present than in the manner in
which these schools project their education offerings on websites.
India’s Elite School Websites

While the private elite schools continue to be sought after learning centres, the
neoliberal agenda has driven these schools to advertise so that they retain their
market domination. Scholars (Drew, 2013; Gottschall et al., 2010; Meadmore &
Meadmore, 2004; Waters & Brooks, 2015) have depicted how prospectuses,
marketing brochures, and websites promote institutional neoliberal agendas of
elite schools as institutions of excellence. A study of Indian school websites
depicts how the texts and images are market oriented to present an exclusive and
elitist education system for wealthy parents who desire an exclusive, privileged
education for their children.
Where, earlier, school brochures were the preferred mode of advertising for a
school, with the public access to the Internet since 1991 there has been a steady
126 Radha Iyer
move by Indian schools to incorporate a website. Websites are modes through

which schools “reaffirm or reconstruct their existing institutional identities with
varying levels of success” (Hesketh & Selwyn, 1999, p. 502). A job that was
previously done through brochures with textual and visual representation is
carried on through websites with colourful images of the school front, mission
statement by the principal, representation of global alumni and international
achievement news being presented with the added attraction of Blogs and
Facebook links being provided. The recommendations and thereby word-of-
mouth advertising that were provided by alumni, friends and family is now being
conducted through websites that provide wider dissemination of learning
programmes that are exclusive. Where school brochures would publish select
information, websites operate in a more flexible space where the choice lies with
the consumer as an active participant in the content (Hesketh & Selwyn, 1999).
Websites are a means for elite schools to be economically and educationally
productive as these share their resources with the viewing public to reaffirm their
status and unique position within Indian education.
Methodology
Foucault’s notion of discourse as constituting knowledge that permits certain
statements to be uttered or presented became a useful methodology to study the
school websites. Discursive formation for Foucault (1972/2010) enables an
interrelated set of statements that “define a regularity” (p. 38), constitute all that
defines the field, and are “subjected [to] rules of formation” (p. 38) that have
coherence and meaning. For Foucault, discursive practices are historically, socially
and culturally determined rules that assist in producing knowledge, here the
knowledge of the type of discourses that successfully promote a school as elite.
Discourses as a set of statements where ideas and language interweave to create
“rules or forms to become manifest” (Foucault, 1972/2010, p. 88) become a
means to recognise what is inclusive, nameable and what is exclusive which calls
for the need to identify how particular statements and discourses are authenticated,
the particular knowledge that constitute and sustain the field: in this study, how
elite schools are discursively constructed in websites.
A Foucauldian discourse analysis takes a corpus of statements (Foucault,
1972/2010) and examines the continuity, discontinuities and the genealogical
background of these statements to illustrate how discourses are problematic, and
historically variable (Arribas-Ayllon & Walkerdine, 2007). Following from this, my
attention is to examine the five dimensions of elite schools (Gaztambide-Fernández,
2009b) that are created through discursive practices. However, even where these
elite dimensions are evident, the discourses adopted by websites are objective and
factual. Subsequently, even though discursive practices that create the identity of
the elite schools are palpably present, these are as a subtle presentation of facts and
client desired information and mode of operation of elite schools.
This study examined 21 websites selected from 100 private school websites
that were initially searched on the web portal Google between December 2013–
May 2014. Understandably, the small sample size is not designed to be
representative of all elite schools but the modest aim is to describe the elite
dimensions of such schools in some qualitative depth. Key words such as
“private”, “elite”, “boarding”, and “best private schools” were used to initially
find schools. The web portal Rediff.com was searched for its survey of India’s elite
private schools. Although it is acknowledged that images contribute to the depth
of meaning, to limit the study only the texts of the websites have been undertaken
for discussion.
Three categories were identified: the boarding schools in hill stations
established during the British rule; metropolitan day and boarding elite schools;
and the IB international schools in small towns. The study was limited to schools
that have a comprehensive website (see Table 7.1). Table 7.1 provides a list of
identifiers in each category; for example, their history, affiliation, clientele and
major discourses. The various hyperlinks on the school websites examined were:
About this school; Overview; Principal’s message; History and Future Vision;
Admissions; Academics; Student life; Extracurricular; and Alumni. Twenty-one
websites were chosen for the comprehensive information that is available on each
and these are given the pseudonyms of ELS1 to ELS21 in no particular order to
de-identify them. Although the websites are all publically accessible, issues of
undertaking a study of these sites with the schools unlikely to have expected the
websites to be closely scrutinised led to anonymising the schools. Each school
being numbered ensures transparency concerning how frequently the sites are
quoted and also to ensure accuracy of the quote.
A close reading of statements and discourses was undertaken to identify the
five dimensions on which schools can be considered elite: typologically elite
being identified as private and independent, and having a substantial endowment;
scholastically elite with a distinguished learning programme that often includes
expensive extracurricular activities and with a curriculum desired by the clientele;
historically elite in terms of the networks and historical continuum schools have
depicted; demographically elite based on the clientele that forms the community
with careful selection of teachers and academically smart students national and
international; and, geographically elite based in an exclusive environment with an
idyllic location or a large space with all exclusive resources and material facilities.
Colonial Excellence
The discourse of historical continuity and preservation of traditions is clearly
articulated but balanced with the nationalist, global standpoint that only serves to
reiterate the sanctified position of these schools. Since their inception in the
1800s (for example, ELS7; ELS4) often as “believed to be the first co-educational
boarding school in the world” (ELS4, Historical Foundations), “one of the oldest
TABLE 7.1 Distinguishing features of elite schools, India
School History Geographic location Affiliation Global/colonial leaning Clientele Primary discourse
Colonial Since 1800s Hill stations Established on the Colonial, often religious Children of expatriates, of Discourse of colonial heritage,
excellence Large acreages pattern of British affiliation that is focused on alumni, of royalty, of film historical continuity and tradition
ELS 1-8 Residential only Public School in the the global in multiple ways: and entertainment Spatial opulence
nineteenth century competitions, religious industry, senior Global links
and continuing the affiliations; exchange government officials, Streamlined discipline
traditions to date programmes children of Indian Academic excellence
Offer IGCSE or ISC1 Prefect system and school diplomats working abroad Individual attention
exams captains and a global clientele Up-to-date infrastructure
Expert faculty
Internationalisation
Sustainability
Ecological awareness
Metropolitan Since 1800s Metropolitan Established on the Branches in cities and some Similar to the first category Present and future oriented
excellence and some cities pattern of private in countries where there is Children of politicians, Educational excellence
ELS 9-16 since 1970s Day school/ school system drawing a large Indian diaspora that industrialists, company Local and global competitiveness
residential on the colonial public depends heavily on Indian executives, and upper Holistic development
schools in India cultural heritage; middle class, or the Individual attention
Offer CBSE, SAT/ Prefect system; school business class Up-to-date infrastructure
IGCSE/ISC Houses; extra-curricular Expert faculty
activities Internationalisation
New Since 1990 Small cities or Established as an IB focused; goals and Children of different International Baccalaureate
excellence IB and 2000 rural International World mission of International countries; children of Global and local engagement
ELS 17-21 College2 or as an World Colleges upper middle/middle class, International faculty
initiative of large diplomats, international International clientele
industries business people Up-to-date infrastructure
1 The Indian School Certificate is conducted by the Council for the Indian School Certificate Examination and can be taken after completing the Indian Certificate of Secondary
Education in Grade 10. The exam criteria are regulated by the University of Cambridge. This Certificate enables students to get admission without any bridging courses to
universities in the U.K.
2 An educational group that operates as an international organisation offering International Baccalaureate to students accepted based on merit.
boarding schools in Asia” (ELS5, Home) or being “a history of tradition and a

heritage” (ELS7, Principal’s Welcome) set especially “for the princes in 18xx”
(ELS8, About Us) or set in 1850s to “strive to continue building this legacy and
bring to fruition what was envisaged for posterity” (ELS3, Principal’s Desk) these
schools emphasise a symbolic association with traditions aimed at projecting
robustness in learning. Recognising the need to be part of the modern nation state,
contemporary relevance is stressed, for example, through “empowering men rooted
in India’s heritage” (ELS5, Vision). Often the “first of its kind in this part of the
world to start the house system, organized games and the prefect system which were
begun almost at the same time as they were developed in England” (ELS5, History),
or the maharajah listed as the President of the General Council (ELS8, About Us),
these are spaces of unquestioned exclusiveness being “presented with the King’s
Colours” (ELS4, Historical Foundations). The colonial aim of schools established
with Christian Principles and values (ELS4; ELS1, Ethos & Aims) is balanced with
“boys from different religious communities … living, working, eating … with boys
from other nations” (ELS2, Welcome) where the history continues with these
schools being “part of the Duke of Edinburgh Award Scheme” (ELS5, Curriculum).
Typological elitism is reiterated by these schools being self-managed with a
Board of Directors or being in the exclusive Council of International Schools or
belonging to the bandwagon of the Round Square (ELS4; ELS1). Key narrative
tropes, for example, self-defined curriculum, self-selected faculty, self-governance,
and small size (Gaztambide-Fernández, 2009a, p. 1100) emphasise the autonomous
identities of these institutions. The presupposition that elite schools have the best
provision is emphasised prominently, for example, “Eton of the East” (ELS8,
About Us), “the syllabus is stipulated by the Council” (ELS5, Curriculum) and the
system being affiliated to ISC (Indian School Certificate; ELS8; ELS5); these
schools either have a “board of governors” (ELS5) or “affordable international
education (drawn from a British tradition) based on sound Christian principles”
(ELS6, Ethos & Aims). These tropes emphasise the independent character of these
schools and by reference establish the indisputable reality of these schools being of
very high excellence.
Scholastic elitism reaffirms the complementary aspects of achievement through
learning that is rigorous, with “external examinations” along with “hands on
experience” (ELS6, Academic Matters), “best of traditions with a modern approach
to learning” (ELS1, Our History), “regular assessment of scholastic and co-scholastic
areas of development” (ELS8, Reports), “in consonance with the latest changes and
developments around the world” (ESL4, Academic Objectives). The provision of
interactive smart boards for children being taught “formal education, social skills
and manners and conversational skills in English” (ELS7, Introduction) depict how
the modern state is envisioned as one that maintains the excellence in learning, for
example “Admission to xxx is a privilege and not a right” (ELS7, Admission) and
“all-round education” (ELS2, Curriculum). International presence and the need to
engage in intensive academic activities or productivity higher than universities (see
130 Radha Iyer
Bourdieu, 1996/1989, pp. 85–87; also see Srivastava, 1998) is established as a

necessary aspect of the historical continuity of elitist excellence.
The power of scholastic elitism is reiterated through the colonial and neoliberal
ties that are subtly re-affirmed with the choice of Cambridge IGCSE and the
Indian School Certificate Examination (ELS4, ELS7). Where schools have
adopted the CBSE6 exit mode (Central Board of Secondary Education), these
emphasise their “school toppers” (read achievers) (ELS8, Awards) or become a
means to retain links with England and to pave a way for students to gain access
to universities overseas (see Kenway and Fahey, 2014). Extensive extracurricular
activities from golf and polo (ELS8), outdoor learning through “student exchange
programmes” through Round Square ideals and values (ELS1, ELS4,
Extracurricular), a global reach in education that is innovative and future oriented
support Rizvi’s (2014) observation that old elite schools being aware of the
immense competition from various newly formed private schools promote
themselves in a strategic manner (p. 291). The demographic hegemony of the
moneyed class is reflected in statements like, “to provide a resource for … business
communities requiring an international education for their children” (ELS6,
Ethos & Aims). The unquestioned truth portrayed on these websites is the ability
of students to work together in a space that overrides the realities of race, class and
caste distinctions. However, the discourse of exclusion operates as the student
body is carefully selected by measuring affordability and merit based academic
ability.
Often beginning as schools for the children of colonisers, these have changed
over time to be ethnically diverse and “adapting to needs of families cross
culturally” (ELS6, Life at xxx) thereby proudly aligned with the nation state, for
example by stating that “the staff and the scholars are predominantly Indian”
(ELS2, The School) while having a mix of internationals (ELS6, Life At xxx;
ELS2, History).
The spatial discourse of affluence is created with location within exotic hill
stations at 5,600 and 7,500 feet or at the foothills chosen for their cooler climate.
All these schools possess huge acreage, sprawling fields, country views, lakes,
valley and hills. Some promote their surroundings “forested with pine and
evergreens” (ELS4, Campus); others their “ideal pastoral atmosphere conducive
to a healthy learning environment” (ELS1, Our Campus) or the “advantage of
living in surroundings not only of exceptional natural grandeur but also of
cultivated beauty” (ELS2, Facilities). Where there is no access to a hill station
these are on the foothills and promote their architecture as outstanding, for
example “the Indo-Saracenic design that became a classic symbol” (ELS8, Main
Building).
These discourses on the whole illustrate continuity and progressiveness that
might be otherwise difficult to perceive in the post-independence schools in
India. The elite discourse illustrates how exclusiveness is a successful venture and
excludes those who do not fit the category of elite.
Metropolitan Excellence
Metropolitan elite schools illustrate typological elitism through the discourse of
ascendancy by emphasising their independent status, being self-managing by
either being part of a society (ELS10) or business, or being part of a diocese
(ELS12; ELS11; ELS5; ELS16) or other religious organisations (ELS13). These
schools reiterate autonomy through curriculum where “voyage of self-discovery”
is emphasised (ELS14, About Us), or “self-reliance” (ELS12, School Profile) is
supported by a faculty that is carefully selected. Their abundance in terms of
financial independence, resources, and the carefully crafted programme sets them
apart from other city-based private schools.
These schools are historically elite, established in the 1800s (ELS11; ELS16) or
with 175/149 years of excellence (ELS16; ELS11; ELS15) or being set by societies
of repute (ELS10; ELS9) or industries. This projects a discourse of stability that is
balanced with progressiveness, with national and global identity being reinforced
through exchange programmes like the Singapore Cultural Exchange or the
Reach Cambridge programme (ELS12, Activities) or prestigious “membership to
the IPSC” (Indian Public School Conference) that links the school with schools
of “national standing” (ELS10, Mission). Progressiveness is also demonstrated
through the social and educational networks that promote meritocratic education,
for example Science Summer School, University of Melbourne, to enable
students to “understand and appreciate cultural differences and make them
productive citizens of the world” (ELS12, School Profile) or one that “shares a
sister relationship with Billanook College, Australia” (ELS13, Profile).
The demographic discourse excludes by leaving unmentioned those who are
not a part of such a system. The students are selected after applications are
“scrutinised” after “interviews” and “entrance tests” (ELS15, Admission; ELS14,
Admission). While affirmative action is endorsed with schools being “equally
committed to … gifted applicants” (ELS10, About Us), scholarships being
afforded to “students from rural backgrounds” (ELS9, School Profile) or students
with sports or academic excellence (ELS9, Learning), it is truly exclusive with
fewer students being admitted with each student having a symbolic capital
(Bourdieu, 1996/1989). These schools demand more of students and careful
selection through exams and interviews leads to fewer students being admitted,
but each being able to cope with the intense individual competitiveness that is
demanded, the aim being to “develop a wholesome personality” and a “healthy,
competitive spirit” (ELS11, School Profile). This is reiterated through their
observation that their “illustrious alumni” (ELS12, Profile) “notable figures who
have gone on to revolutionize the world” (ELS16, Alumni).
The exclusionary scholastic discourse operates through an emphasis on these
being “a place where high marks have to be earned through sustained hard work”
(ELS12, School Profile) or “the latent creative potential in every child” (ELS14,
About Us). Progressiveness is indicated through “a unidirectional teaching
132 Radha Iyer
method … being increasingly substituted by a multidirectional group workshop

method” where the teacher is “the co-ordinator” (ELS10, Academies), with the
curriculum emphasising “hands-on learning experiences”, “interconnected
curriculum that is in tune with the real world of learning” (ELS13, Curriculum)
or “preparing them for a world of tomorrow, full of challenges” (ELS11, School
Profile). The rigour of being part of this discourse as Meadmore and Meadmore
(2004, p. 377) observe, is elite school students are expected to have a vision, the
ability to sit competitive or international exams such as ISC certificate or IGCSE,
or international competitive exams such as SAT or Advanced Placement
Programme for US colleges (ELS12, Accreditations). The extracurricular activities
further illustrate who belongs by the activities offered such as a friendly cricket
match with UK school students (ELS10, Mission), or the Reach Cambridge
Summer School programme (ELS12, Activities), or Exchange Programme …
with Alexandra Infant School (ELS9, School Profile). That these schools endorse
the neoliberal aim to “technicize knowledge” (Connell, 2013, p. 108) and be an
exclusive “admired model” where there is an audit culture (p. 101), audited
through their national and international enterprise, is not articulated.
The schools in the metropolitan cities promote their space either through the
historical significance of their buildings or through landscapes and facilities. As
entrepreneurial ventures that provide exclusive learning, for example, “in the
portals of the [city], the school provides an invigorating and competitive
atmosphere” (ELS10, About Us), “a sprawling green oasis of 20 acres” (ELS14,
Ambience), “landscaped 20 acre campus that is a visual delight” (ELS9, School
Profile), elite schools create a sumptuous, conducive atmosphere for learning.
The sprawling campus, with facilities such as swimming pools, open air theatre,
and auditorium with state-of-the art audio visual facilities, gymnasium and even
a staff health centre, is often in stark contrast to the cramped spaces of public,
government schools. As van Zanten (2013, p. 83) states, parents judge schools
based on their own “respective locations in the class structure” and these schools
readily cater to the symbolic capital of the middle and upper middle classes
through exceptional facilities such as “a state of the art biotechnology laboratory”
(ELS16, Welcome), range of activities, and an illustrious academic record.
The metropolitan schools focus on the discourse of exclusiveness through
their scholastic offerings and facilities, some with their historical continuity and
primarily through their nation building capabilities and background, to resist the
spatial disadvantage of being in large, cramped cities or the merit based admission
they offer.
International Excellence
Connell (2013, p. 100) notes that neoliberalism aims to expand markets with
“companies selling services in a market”. Therefore, it comes as no surprise that
for-profit corporations and companies in India are commodifying education
through various businesses having entered the education market by setting up

International Baccalaureate schools in small towns. Schools that have the
International Baccalaureate have sprung up in recent times and, unlike the above
two categories, have no historical continuity. As transnationally elite, these
schools are the result of globalisation’s effect on the Indian education context.
The transnational discourse of common forms of education, the branding through
the IB model and the promotion of certain educational philosophies are leading
to the forming of a “class-for-itself”, one that is “keen to act as a class” (Bunnell,
2010, p. 356) being based on common aims, similar experiences and interests.
Being associated with the IB programme, these elite schools are typologically
elite as these cater to in “international standard of education” (ELS17, About Us)
or are a part of the “United World College movement” (ELS18, About Us),
providing the same vision and mission as its different colleges worldwide
successfully excluding a national curriculum and educational philosophy. Being
“India’s leading educational institution” (ELS20, About Us) or “one of India’s
most prestigious independent academic schools” (ELS21, Introduction) saves
these schools from being foreign while “striving for Western Standards of what is
described as universal” (Hughes, 2009, p. 139) promotes a transnational focus.
The lack of traditions and historicity is overcome by the association of these
schools with IGCSE and IB and thereby to a larger global discourse on education.
Schools claim to be providing “quality education over 30 years” (ELS20,
Overview), some “the first IB school and first international school in India”
(ELS21, Introduction) or as “one of 15 schools that are part of the UWC”
(ELS18, Overview) and their links with “Council of International Schools” or by
being “built on first-class British independent boarding school model” (ELS19,
Know School). As new elites, these provide international education to the
affluent middle class, once only possible for the Indian aristocracy or children of
colonisers and, thereby, prepare students with skills necessary to succeed within a
global context (Resnik, 2009).
Demographic elitism is designed to create future leaders, those who serve the
capitalist economy, those who are “competent in assessing information and
making critical decisions” (Bunnell, 2010, p. 357). These are sites where “students
from 50 countries” (ELS18, About Us) or “with 26 nationalities” (ELS19,
Admission) create “a beehive of international students from all across the globe”
(ELS17, Overview) and learn and work together, disregarding a sizeable Indian
population that cannot envisage international orientation in education. The
purpose of “educating global citizens for over 100 years” (ELS21, Students) or
where students are “agents of positive change” (ELS18, About Us) advocate how
national boundaries have blurred and social class of a distinctive group is created
based on market forces.
Stringent entry conditions of these schools create exclusiveness, for example
“entrance test conducted wherever necessary” (ELS19, Admission), “age
appropriate aptitude test/psychometric tests are administered to identify basic
134 Radha Iyer
skills of a child” (ELS20, Admission) and children with special needs being
“evaluated on a case by case basis” (ELS17, Admission), a privilege as only a
“limited number of students with special needs” (ELS19, Admission Procedure)
are admitted.
The aim to produce successful, responsible and creative global citizens who,
in turn, will “strive for excellence and the progress of society” (ELS17, Vision &
Mission) envisions these schools as scholastically elite. The global need of the
middle and upper middle classes for high academic results (Tarc, 2009) is echoed
through the provision of “education of the highest academic order” (ELS17,
Mission), “a track record of internationally benchmarked IB results” (ELS21, IB
at xxx) or being “consistently ranked among the top 10 international schools in
the country”, (ELS20, Know xxx) offering “a curriculum which stimulates
intellectual curiosity, critical thinking and problem solving” (ELS19, Our
School). Further, the IB narrative tropes of “transformative educational
experience” where the aim is “to create agents of change for a more peaceful and
sustainable future” (ELS18, Curriculum) indicate services that are sold as privilege
to justify why only a selection of handpicked students get to experience an
exclusive education (see Connell, 2013). There are “international exchanges
with IB schools in Europe and Australia” (ELS20, International Exchanges)
extracurricular activities to develop leadership, the arts, and volunteering so as
“to produce the ‘whole’ child with market edge” (Meadmore & Meadmore,
2004, p. 375). IB, as the internationally branded product along with its symbolic
values of intercultural understanding or multiculturalism (Resnik, 2012, p. 259),
represents such leadership through “community interaction”, with schools
“striving to shape leaders of change in the world” (ELS18, Experiential Learning)
and reaffirms the class-for-itself model of education.
The schools are set in idyllic small town locations such as the foothills of
mountains or where “the climate benefits from altitude and is pleasant throughout”
(ELS19, Our School). The sprawling campuses, with award winning architecture,
for example, “Designshare Award from New York, USA” (ELS20, Know xxx)
are fitted with swimming pools, amphitheatres and health care centres (ELS20,
ELS18) or are within “the urban-rural belt within an InfoTech Park that benefits
an expatriate community” (ELS19, Our School). Although not as rural and
pastoral in landscape as the residential elite schools of the colonial era, nevertheless
these have large, often unlimited space, for example, “180 acre biodiversity
reserve” (ELS18, Our Campus) or “located at 2133m in the peaceful xx Hills of
South India, a region known for its rugged beauty and cool temperate climate”
(ELS21, Introduction to xxx) that allow students to find a space for themselves.
In brief, the international schools have engaged in neoliberal denationalisation
(Resnik, 2012) where through parent choice, school based management and the
IB there is a takeover of the historically constructed national education (p. 256)
to befit the forward looking nation state that wishes to be a global leader.
Conclusion
The narrative of the elite Indian school is created through the discourses of
privilege and distinction and is illustrated through the five dimensions of elitism
(Gaztambide-Fernández, 2009b). However, the level of conformity to the five
dimensions depends on the historical, utilitarian purpose these serve the school in
advertising their educational offerings. For example, in these websites, historical
elitism is finely balanced with progressiveness or geographical elitism as a
contextual phenomenon of spatiality distances the overcrowded city or creates an
oasis within a cramped, overpopulated city. These dimensions are, therefore,
applied differently to a degree to western elite schools such as the Weston School
in Gaztambide-Fernández’s study (2009b).
The discursive trends adopted by the school websites promote privilege,
inclusion and exclusion as these are applicable to the Indian context. The
discourse of exclusiveness is created through multiple means, for example, the
supremacy of the English medium for instruction that, then, establishes regularity
in discourse to signpost what has always been said about these schools. The
exclusion of certain groups of students, for example the disadvantaged or the ones
with special needs, or an emphasis that if these students are accepted they would
be expected to fit in, are discourses as “practices that systematically form the
objects of which they speak” (Foucault, 1972/2010, p. 49) and determine what
constitutes elitism in these schools.
A sense of privilege, a market ideology of individual achievement and a global
connection with elite schools worldwide promotes a discourse of elite ascendancy
even where schools are presumably adopting a postcolonial ideology of promoting
nation building. Similar to Ripon College (Rizvi, 2014), elite schools in this
study embrace two cultures: that of being Indian and at the same time offering
programmes that prepare students for western tertiary education. There is a
discursive alignment with other Indian private schools without dismissing the
social and cultural practices that define the private system instituted by the British,
or more recently a global, international education. In a postcolonial manner, elite
schools choose certain practices that align with other elite schools, and practices
that situate them within the social and cultural aspects of India (see Srivastava,
1998). All the 21 websites reviewed project a similar agenda, that of being market
oriented and an exclusive training ground for the affluent class. In conclusion, in
India, the charm of the private, elite education system has not reduced since its
inception during the colonial period and in a neoliberal, knowledge economy the
private, meritocratic system continues to flourish.
Notes
1 There are a range of schools offered in India. There are public sector schools also
known as government schools; then there are government-aided schools that are
136 Radha Iyer
partly private or managed by an association or a religious body. The curriculum, fees,

teacher–student ratio and other procedures are mandated by the government, thus fees
are also controlled. Private schools are owned by private bodies, and have the freedom
to set fees structure, teacher–student ratio and also curriculum and entrance and exit
exams. Ekal Vidyalaya is a non-profit organisation that aims at educating the village
and tribal children through an indigenous mode of education that focuses on literacy,
numeracy, healthcare, and environmental education. Madrassas are Islamic schools
that focus on religious education and also offer mainstream subjects.
2 Minute by the Honourable T. B. Macaulay, dated the 2 February 1835. Retrieved
from http: //www. columbia. Edu /itc / mealac / Pritchett /00generallinks / macaulay
/ txt_minute_education_1835.html (accessed 31 March 2014).
3 Sir Charles Wood was the President of the Board of Control of the East India
Company and had an important role in the education system in India. In 1854 he sent
a despatch to Lord Dalhousie, the Governor-General of India outlining various
recommendations for a modern education system, most of which were implemented.
4 The popular international qualification is recognised by universities the world over
and is a means for establishing high academic achievement.
5 Round Square is a network of schools in 40 countries and together these schools
emphasise academic achievement and holistic development. The Round Square
schools follow six ideals of democracy, service, adventure, internationalism,
environmentalism and leadership.
6 India has two boards of education—the CBSE (Central Board of Secondary Education)
and ICSE (Indian Certificate of Secondary Education). The CBSE syllabus is
considered easier than other boards due to fewer subjects under common denominations
and lesser emphasis on English. ICSE is more comprehensive, is recognised by all
major universities worldwide and emphasises the importance of English.
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8
THE INSIDERS
Changing Forms of Reproduction in Education
Hugues Draelants
Introduction
Cultural capital is one of the concepts commonly used by sociologists of education
to explain the role of schools in reproducing social inequalities. The now-classic
explanation advanced by Bourdieu and Passeron ([1964], 1979; [1970], 1977)
suggests that upper-class children inherit various cultural resources from their
families (language, general knowledge, intellectual tools, body language and
aesthetic predispositions, ways to stand and speak, refined tastes, etc.) and that
these are accumulated and transformed into real benefits in the school context.
Such a process is made possible because the curricula imposed on students, along
with academic assessments, fall within a so-called ‘legitimate’ culture—in other
words, a culture composed of socially valued symbolic products (arts, humanities,
sciences) coming from the dominant social groups. Bourdieu and Passeron thus
present school culture as an arbitrary culture, a class culture that favours upper-
class children in the academic context.
In French-language sociology, the metaphor of the inheritors, taken from the
title of Bourdieu and Passeron’s first book, has come to be used to refer to students
from the most privileged backgrounds whose familiarity with academic knowledge
gives them a decisive advantage in school adjustment and learning processes. But
is it still adequate for describing what is at stake today in the reproduction of
social inequalities in school? Several societal and educational changes prompt us
to take a new look at the theories and concepts used to explain and interpret the
ways in which social inequalities are reproduced. I believe that the effect of
cultural capital has to some extent taken new forms. What now matters, in my
view, is less the familiarity with highbrow culture than knowing how to convert
different types of resources into educational capital and social prospects, knowing
140 Hugues Draelants
which paths to follow in order to obtain diplomas which offer the most profitable
opportunities and lead to elite social positions. Thus, in an attempt to sum up in
an open-ended way what characterises the privileged student today, I will enlarge
the metaphor of the ‘insider’ and consider what adaptations this new language
suggests for the theory of social reproduction.
The Declining Profitability of Highbrow Culture

Cultural capital is well suited for explaining school inequalities insofar as there
exists a distinctive ‘legitimate culture’ which is, on the one hand, clearly separate
from ordinary culture and, on the other, adopted by school culture. In the present
context, however, these two preconditions for the academic profitability of
cultural capital would seem to be debatable.
First of all, can we say that there is still a dominant legitimate culture (in the
sense of a relative social consensus about a cultural hierarchy) which is clearly
separate from ordinary culture? The sociology of culture generally sees in the
present period a weakening of the traditional split between high culture and
popular culture(s), with fewer and fewer distinctions between the productions of
elite status culture and those of popular or mass culture. The cultural hierarchies
established by Bourdieu in Distinction ([1979], 1984) are unquestionably dated.
The cleavage in question no longer opposes elites and masses but ‘omnivores’ and
‘univores’: the omnivores would be characterised by the eclecticism and exoticism
of their cultural tastes and practices, whereas the cultural world of the univores
would be much more limited and insular (Peterson, 1992; Donnat, 1994). That
said, the argument that hierarchies and legitimacies are declining, as attested by the
spread of a certain cultural eclecticism does not mean that we no longer observe a
connection between social background and cultural preferences or a distinction
phenomenon. As some researchers have shown, the way of relating to culture
(reflexive and distanced) can be more important in the distinction process than the
precise choice of cultural objects (Coulangeon, 2011; Prieur & Savage, 2013).
The relative decline of legitimate culture therefore does not mean that culture
is no longer a marker of social class but does it still play a determinant role in the
production of academic inequalities? We have every reason to think that the
affinity between school culture and legitimate culture is not as clear as it used to
be. We can see this through the transformation of disciplinary hierarchies and
subject matter (Jacquet-Francillon, 2008). The ‘literature’ streams that used to
dominate have now been supplanted by the scientific and technological streams.
The kinds of academic knowledge and skills developed in the curricula are also
changing: general knowledge or cultural knowledge as such, along with the most
formal knowledge of languages and writings are losing their importance, whereas
the ability to use and process information, solve problems and think logically
receives increasing attention in educational programmes and school assessments.
The school, moreover, is no longer a bastion erecting a rampart between itself
The Insiders 141
and the teenage cultural world (Dubet, 2002). Apart from a few elite secondary
institutions, it is no longer a space culturally removed from the rest of the society.
The inheritors are submerged in the mass of students. Their marginalisation is
expressed not only quantitatively but also in terms of culture and identity. Indeed,
they have to suspend any pretension to high culture if they do not wish to be
socially excluded by their peers and saddled with unflattering labels like ‘brown-
noser’ or ‘nerd’. In sum, the school has lost a large share of its ability to act as an
authority of cultural legitimisation in favour of the cultural industries on the one
hand and peer groups on the other (Pasquier, 2005). Teachers themselves have
undergone a cultural evolution as the profession has moved away from its
traditionally elitist social profile (Chapoulie, 1987), but also given the spread of a
new model of professionalism. Today’s teachers are expected to be good
educators, or ‘reflexive practitioners’ (Schön, 1983), rather than ‘learned masters’
who are highly cultivated and knowledgeable in their subject area (Maroy, 2001).
In this respect, we can observe their increasing openness to youth culture (Eloy,
2012) in line with a pedagogical concern for getting students involved. Teachers
no longer hesitate to include in their courses material considered close to the
students’ culture, such as mainstream children’s literature (Twilight, Harry Potter).
From Cultural Capital to Cognitive and Linguistic Capital: The

Rejection of the Bourdieusian Cultural Arbitrary
In light of the decline of canonical culture, some researchers have attempted to
understand in concrete terms what has become of the effect of cultural capital by
comparing the impact of different accepted practices (De Graaf, De Graaf &
Kraaykamp, 2000; Sullivan, 2001). By breaking cultural capital down into
‘reading behaviour’ and other kinds of activities such as ‘participation in beaux-
arts,’ playing a musical instrument or listening to classical music, they show that
what really counts is not cultural capital but reading, insofar as school culture
remains above all a culture of writing. Diligent reading also permits the
development of analytical, written, and language skills and these have more
weight in the school context than the mastery of canonical culture, which
occupies a very limited place in today’s curricula. Otherwise stated, if culture
counts for educational attainment, this is not only for an arbitrary reason (in
keeping with Bourdieu’s idea that the school would promote certain cultural
contents corresponding more or less to the culture of the different social classes)
but because they produce cognitive effects and predispositions.
Cultural Transmission: Not Only ‘Osmotic’ but Active

If current research no longer simply maintains, like Bourdieu, that the differences
between family models and educational requirements are strictly arbitrary, it also
distances itself from the Bourdieusian concept of family transmission of culture,
which has been sharply contested in France because of its excessively mechanistic
nature (see in particular Lahire, 1995; Henri-Panabière, 2010). Indeed, for
Bourdieu, cultural transmission essentially occurs through osmosis: “all cultural
goods—paintings, monuments, machines, and any objects shaped by man,
particularly all those which belong to the childhood environment, exert an
educative effect by their mere existence ...” (Bourdieu [1979], 1986, p. 255). In
contrast to this idea of an “educative effect automatically exerted by the
environment” (Bourdieu [1979], 1986, p. 256), recent studies demonstrate that
having a fabulous library does not suffice to stimulate a child’s intellectual
development; an active transmission of the taste for reading is also necessary. And
this presumes a considerable, time-consuming parental investment which entails,
for example, the fact of reading stories to the child early on and providing
guidance and accompaniment in his or her readings (Lahire, 1995). More
generally, studies bearing on social class differences in family–school relationships
and in parenting styles show that school reproduction strategies increasingly
depend on an active transmission implying intensive family involvement, such as
parental support with homework (Kakpo, 2012), participation in the life of the
child’s school and parent–teacher associations (Gombert & van Zanten, 2004) or,
beyond day-to-day monitoring of schooling, a permanent ‘educationalisation’ of
leisure activities (Daverne & Dutercq, 2013) and the use of educational toys
(Vincent, 2000).
From Direct to Indirect Cultural Transmission

The active cultural transmission which occurs directly and vertically, from parents
to children, is itself limited in its effectiveness, however. Not only does the
acquisition of cultural capital call for an appropriation effort which is not self-
evident, but recent studies show that cultural capital is modified in the transmission
process: young people today are exposed to a variety of cultural influences and
select what they inherit in light of what still seems useful and relevant to them.
This explains why, in practice, some children do not benefit from their parents’
cultural capital (Henri-Panabière, 2010). Such a “crisis of vertical cultural
transmissions” (Pasquier, 2005) arises from changes in family educational styles,
which are generally more democratic than before (Le Pape & van Zanten, 2009),
but also from the parents’ inability to control the socialisation of their children
from start to finish. Indeed, family education is threatened by other factors of
socialisation, especially the media and peer groups, which exercise a powerful
cultural influence during adolescence.
For these reasons, even beyond the development of a strategic, reflexive
relationship to the practices of cultural, cognitive, and linguistic socialisation, we
observe the emergence of oblique or horizontal strategies of indirect cultural
transmission. In some cases, indirect cultural transmission involves recourse to
paid intermediaries who allow cultural capital to be transmitted obliquely or
The Insiders 143
‘second hand’ (Bourdieu [1979], 1986). Conscious of the difficulty of controlling

the socialisation of their children in any effective way, some parents privilege
professional intermediaries such as tutors (Glasman, 2001) or coaches (Oller,
2012). At the same time, they make every effort to limit potentially negative peer
influences by seeing to it that the children’s social environment is limited to ‘their
own kind’ through the choice of schools and extracurricular activities (Felouzis
& Perroton, 2010; van Zanten, 2009a). In this case, cultural transmission becomes
horizontal, by virtue of informal peer socialisation. The fact that the children’s
leisure activities diverge from those of their parents with the onset of adolescence
therefore does not automatically mean decreasing parental influence. Through
the control of the company their children keep, the parents continue to shape
their tastes and cultural habits indirectly. Although these reproduction strategies
do not necessarily require cultural transmission, or at least not direct vertical
transmission from parents to children, they do call for parental supervision and
close attention to schooling, which implies a considerable investment, especially
for the mothers (Vincent, 2010).
From Cognitive Skills to Behavioural Competences

Even though indirect strategies require constant parental attention and close
control of the environment, their implementation seems easier than that of the
direct strategies. Calling on professionals (tutors, coaches, etc.) or controlling the
children’s social circles (through the choice of schools and extracurricular
activities) above all requires economic and social capital. On the other hand,
making every effort to transmit the love of reading (the main cultural activity
whose academic profitability remains unquestionable) requires time. But the time
available for combining or reconciling private and professional life (and thus for
taking care of children in the case of a family) is generally lacking, given the ever
faster pace of life. Even among the middle and upper classes, dual-income families
are the norm and this makes time a precious commodity. The lack of time helps
to explain why, as we have seen, those who have the means delegate part of the
educational effort to third parties. The limited availability and the fatigue
occasioned by professional overdrive also lessen the ascetic tendencies characteristic
of the traditional norm of cultural legitimacy and turns middle- and upper-class
parents1 away from private cultural consumption linked to information processing,
notably reading, which they tend to replace by public cultural participation
(attending plays, concerts, exhibitions, openings) that is linked to the
communication of status (Ganzeboom, 1982; Coulangeon, 2011).
It is therefore not surprising to discover that a certain number of new social
reproduction strategies used by middle- and upper-class families are aimed not so
much at producing cognitive effects on their children as developing certain
behavioural competences (Farkas, 2003). These refer to the ‘soft skills’ or
interpersonal and communications competences sought by recruiters, in particular
in the executive job market, where what is important for standing out from the
crowd is less making a display of a cultural capital embedded over a long
socialisation period than being able to present one’s personality in a positive light
by taking into account the behavioural criteria recognised and assessed in this
context (involvement, dynamism, versatility, etc.) (Brown & Hesketh, 2004).
In a globalised world, developing aptitudes for mobility and multilingualism,
for example, is perceived as a particularly useful, if not indispensable skill in order
to qualify for certain professional posts which are now international and this has
given rise to increasingly varied strategies for learning foreign languages at an
early age as well as strategies for mobility or the internationalisation of educational
trajectories (Murphy-Lejeune, 2002; Wagner, 2007; Ballatore, 2010).
Towards New Forms of Cultural Capital

For advocates of a broader understanding of the concept of cultural capital, these
new strategies of educational reproduction simply come down to new forms of
cultural capital. Some sociologists who accord an extended meaning to the
concept thus include the parents’ knowledge of the mysteries of the school system
and of what it takes to prepare for elite paths (best schools, valued tracks and
options, useful extracurricular activities, etc.). This idea is put forth notably by
McDonough (1997), and van Zanten (2009a), who speak of an ‘informational
kind’ of cultural capital. In the same way, it is possible to consider the behavioural
competences permitting the development of social ease as cultural capital of an
attitudinal or ‘personal’ kind (Brown, 2008), and those aimed at mobility as
‘cultural capital of an international kind’ (Prieur & Savage, 2013).
It must be noted here that two main kinds of definitions of the concept of
cultural capital coexist in the literature (especially in the English-speaking orbit):
a restricted one and a broad one (Lareau & Weininger, 2003; Goldthorpe, 2007).
The restricted definition, which I have implicitly applied until now, assimilates
cultural capital to highbrow culture, that of the high-status groups (which involve
participation in art, classical music, and literature). It has been widely disseminated
in the sociology of education, particularly in the Anglo-American world,
following the influential article of DiMaggio (1982).2 From the standpoint of
Bourdieusian orthodoxy, this restricted definition can be perceived as simplistic.
For Bourdieu, the relationship to culture is not merely the relationship to high
culture; beyond the relationship with works of art or intellectual works, it
includes bodily and aesthetic predispositions, ways of behaving and speaking,
refined tastes which are expressed in all social activities—table manners, ways of
dressing, and fitting out one’s living space, and so on.
For partisans of the broader, more ‘Bourdieu-compatible’ definition of the
concept, cultural capital refers to a variety of practices of parental education
(Lareau & Weininger, 2003). This approach stresses the socially determined
nature of cultural capital, which is associated with the educational standards of the
The Insiders 145
social classes able to impose the assessment criteria most favourable to their
children: “the critical aspect of cultural capital is that it allows culture to be used
as a resource that provides access to scarce rewards, is subject to monopolization,
and, under certain conditions, may be transmitted from one generation to the
next” (Lareau & Weininger, 2003, p. 587).
Contrary to the restricted definition which focuses on the content of cultural
capital and assimilates the latter to canonical culture (that of the high-status
groups), the broad definition thus places greater emphasis on the effect of cultural
capital, and notably its role in school and social reproduction. One of the merits
of this alternative definition is therefore to make a distinction between the effect
and content of cultural capital. In this way, it “gives serious thought to the
relational dimension which Bourdieu assigns to his sociology of culture” (Fabiani,
2007). The content of cultural capital is secondary because it is arbitrary and
unstable: any given skill or competence monopolised in a given time by elite
groups can function as cultural capital.
If we accept this idea, it becomes clear that cultural capital is far from being
obsolete. Beyond the modifications of its content, certain resources still permit
access to scarce rewards and the new resources are thus the functional equivalents
of the old ones. However, it is important to emphasise one essential difference
between the classic and new forms of cultural capital: the latter are not
autonomous; they depend on a conversion of the varieties of capital which are
more dominant than ever, namely economic and social capital. In other words,
the kind of cultural capital which is now acquiring growing weight is less and less
independent of economic and social capital, as shown by the examples I present
below. This situation implies that the segments of the middle and upper classes
maximising the profitability of their cultural capital are not exactly the same as
they were. The middle and upper classes with the most social and economic
capital are the direct beneficiaries of this change, whereas the intellectual fractions
of the middle and upper classes are challenged in their academic dominance.
In the remarks which follow, I examine one of these new strategies which
seems particularly central: the choice of the school. By demonstrating that those
whom I call the “insiders” are the most favoured, I will bring out the importance
of this strategy for gaining access to an elite education in France.
School Choice: A Question of Information Which Favours

the Insiders
In today’s strategies of social reproduction, the choice of the school is an
overriding concern of the families, not only for cultural reasons but because of
the growing heterogeneity of the school settings. In the massified education
systems, the value of an academic credential tends to depend on these contexts,
which are now more heterogeneous than before, and in particular, on the
reputation of the schools attended and the courses taken rather than the
educational level attained (Duru-Bellat & Kieffer, 2008). Indeed, studies have
shown that the advantage enjoyed by children from privileged backgrounds does
not stem from a cultural inheritance but from the access to higher-quality settings
(Duru-Bellat & Mingat, 1988). Far from marking the end of social inequalities in
schooling, massification has led to the introduction of social-selection mechanisms
within the school and the development of ‘high roads’ which, more or less
signposted within the education system, grant access to elite pathways (Ball,
Bowe & Gewirtz, 1995; Power, 2000; LeTendre, Gonzalez & Nomi, 2006).
Well-informed parents are perfectly aware of this.
The difficulty parents encounter in making their ways through the twists and
turns of the system is related above all to the quantity of available information. To
some extent, we might speak of a lack of information: the diversification of
contexts produced by massification has made the value of the educational
provision uncertain, whereas classes and schools are relatively closed spaces and
very little filters outside about how they work. That said, in our information-
saturated society, the abundance of information complicates educational decisions
just as much, given the difficulty of assessing the credibility of what is publicly
available. And we then come up against the problem of information quality and
interpretation.
In parallel to official information, users of the school system can turn to other
information sources which are in principle accessible and available to all. These
can include the specialised press or the mass media, as well as information coming
directly from the schools or the bodies administering them (e.g., websites,
descriptive brochures, information days, open house events). Ideally, however,
the official sources can be complemented by, compared with or even replaced by
the informal information mainly conveyed by the personal social networks
(parents, friends, co-workers, neighbours). These sources provide ‘hot’
information (Ball & Vincent, 1998) which is customised rather than impersonal
(van Zanten, 2009a). In addition, information coming from close relations, unlike
official information, enjoys a high degree of credibility (van Zanten, 2009a). In
principle, there is no reason for opportunism to come into play since the bonds
are affective and in principle ‘disinterested’ (Bidart, Degenne & Grossetti, 2011).
I propose to use the term ‘insiders’ to characterise parents capable of mobilising
such information, which allows them to personalise their school choices and
draw the most profit from their educational capital. In other words, the insiders
are those who possess the map and compass necessary for finding their way in the
educational labyrinth. The insiders know how to read between the lines and
decipher an institutional discourse which tends to place school programmes of
unequal value on the same footing. In order to do so, they draw on the inside
knowledge which their social capital brings them. Conversely, the non-insiders
are those whose knowledge is limited to official information, which is public and
impersonal, or informal information, which is scarcer and not always reliable.
The Insiders 147
Among the likely consequences, I would emphasise that the lack of

information can feed false representations of certain educational pathways and
encourage students to turn away from them in a kind of self-selection. Given the
imperfection of the information and the fact that experience can only intervene
after undertaking the studies in question, the non-insider also runs a greater risk
of making errors in study options. To the extent that school choices have
considerable impact on future socio-professional integration, any error of
assessment and guidance can turn out to be extremely detrimental.
The Insiders: A Sociological Profile

When we ask who the insiders are, the first to come to mind are teachers. Their
superiority, and therefore that of their children, in terms of knowledge about the
system, the right programmes, the promising choices and so on, is clear. In a
system characterised by a lack of transparency, those on the inside enjoy an
advantage. On average, teachers are thus particularly astute ‘school consumers’
(Ballion, 1982). French research on the choice of a public or private institution
from nursery school to lycée (upper secondary) has clearly shown that, as parents,
teachers belong to the minority of families actually ‘choosing’ (about 25%), in the
sense that they “develop genuine research strategies” calling for a considerable
prospecting effort in order to collect relevant information (Héran, 1996, p. 21).
However, teachers are not the only parents endowed with a perfect mastery
of the mysteries of the school system and what can be extremely subtle hierarchies
between schools, pathways, and specialisations. In general, parents with higher
education diplomas are probably competent to guide their children, at least
towards the most prestigious pathways in educational terms (often the ones they
have followed themselves as students). Within the ‘choosing’ minorities, another
category which is quite active in prospecting and developing strategies in the
area of study options is composed of the wealthy self-employed, with company
heads and members of the professions in the forefront (Héran, 1996). According
to Gombert and van Zanten (2004), moreover, those who deploy the most
sophisticated educational strategies today are not the “middle classes of the
public sector” (exemplified by teachers) but other categories closer to the
“private sector of the middle classes”, namely the professionals, engineers, and
company executives.
It should also be noted that the insiders are not necessarily those who actually
have the relevant information to make their way through the system but also
those who can use this information by drawing on their social capital. The insiders
have broad, diversified networks of family and friends liable to provide them with
resources—especially information—at some time. But they also have to make use
of these networks. Some social categories and occupations are predisposed more
than others to cultivate personal relations and use them as resources (Bidart et al.,
2011). Since teaching remains a very individual occupation (Barrère, 2002), we
may suppose that teachers, unlike senior executives, are less accustomed to
developing and handling their networks in a strategic way.
In addition, being able to choose presumes having access to a rich educational
offer. In this respect, the spatial inequalities are flagrant. As Bourdieu and Passeron
already indicated, “In fact, the geographical factor and the social factor in social
inequality are never independent, since ... the chances of living in a city, where
there is more likelihood of access to education and culture are greater, rise with
position in the social hierarchy” (Bourdieu & Passeron [1964], 1979, pp. 42–43).
In France, for example, the educational offer is considerably larger in Paris and
the city centres than elsewhere in the regions. Overall, the greatest number of
specialisations, rare languages, European and international sections, adapted class
schedules, and qualified and older teachers is found in the most advantaged cities
and towns (Oberti, 2007). In other words, the ability to choose the school best
suited to one’s child is not independent of economic capital insofar as the ‘schools
of excellence’ are usually concentrated where the price per square metre is the
highest.
Access to Elite Schools in France, an Empirical Illustration

The strategic role played by the school attended is particularly clear in the case of
access to French preparatory classes and to the prestigious higher education
institutions known as the Grandes Écoles. In France, it is widely believed that the
students who manage to enter the best preparatory classes and then the best
Grandes Écoles are high achievers who have been selected on the basis of a
meritocratic competition. In reality, the observation of the academic and social
profiles of France’s school elites challenges the idea that academic performance is
the only prerequisite for access to a top-notch education. My own research shows
just how much those who gain access to these highly reputed institutions within
the French education system, far from remaining passive, develop strategies early
on for choosing pathways and specialisations, but also schools.3 The phenomena
of ‘school-linking’, statistically demonstrated elsewhere (Buisson-Fenet &
Draelants, 2013), are indeed recognisable. The existence of paths facilitating
access to the most prestigious programmes and schools is well known by those
who are familiar with the functioning of the French system of elite education
(Draelants, 2010):
For ENS, you have to get started early. A friend of mine who lives in Paris
told me a story about it. When she went to enrol her son in nursery school,
the head teacher told her, “You know, a good pre-school, that means a
good first year in primary school; a good first year, that means a good
primary school, a good final year, and so a good start in middle school and
a good middle school. A good middle school, that means a good lycée, and
a good lycée, that means the prépa.” In other words, that’s how her son was
The Insiders 149
going to wind up in the preparatory classes. She was shocked at the time,
but it’s really like that. When I talk to my own friends who’re here,
sometimes some of them tell me, “I’ve been wanting to go to ENS since I
was 12 or 13 years old.”
(Marc, an École Normale Supérieure student who entered by the
so-called ‘back door’ of the ‘second competitive exam’ at university;
lives with his mother, who does not have a baccalauréat [university
entrance qualification] and is unable to work)
It is obviously not enough to know that the elite schools exist and recognise their
social significance—it is also necessary to have the academic skills. That said,
being an excellent student does not guarantee access to an elite preparatory class;
it is a necessary but not sufficient condition and many excellent candidates are not
accepted. My interviews with students at the elite schools are punctuated with
references to the cases of outstanding students who, even in the opinion of these
happy few, could have gotten into the same programmes if they were insiders:
The system’s not at all transparent, y’know. I can really see it: in the final
year before the bac, I was in a good school in the suburbs, well, “better than
average”. And in my class there was a kind of social diversity but everybody
was still pretty good. I was in the best final-year class and there was a good
level. And the ones who came from a certain social background, they all
went on to a prépa. The day the application results were given out, the
others asked themselves what was going on, y’know! They hadn‘t even
heard of prépas. Even if some of them really could have taken a preparatory
class and continued their studies that way.
(Adrien, student at Sciences Po; father graduated from the École
Supérieure de Commerce, Paris, and Sciences Po, financial consultant;
mother, five years of higher education, self-employed professional)
This interview excerpt brings out how many excellent students, for lack of
guidance from either their parents or their teachers, suddenly discover after the
fact a possible study option which, by the same token, escapes them. Unlike their
better initiated fellow students, who have maintained a certain discretion about
their intentions to apply for admission into the prépas.
Academic achievement thus has to be accompanied by the right information,
but also specific penchants, such as the ability to make one’s way with
determination in study programmes with high value added, even if that means
curbing less profitable tastes and desires. And the knowledge of the existence of
the elite schools and the awareness of their social significance are powerful
incentives for self-constraint. Possessing the information is one of the conditions
of possibility: if students in the preparatory classes are willing to put their leisure
activities and a large part of their social life on hold for two or three years without
feeling that they’ve made a bad choice, this is, as they recognise themselves,
“because they know they’ll have many opportunities if they succeed”.
As a result, information seems inseparable from ambition, and it is not entirely
independent of performance. Contrary to the common perception, what I call
excellence is not an immanent quality which would be present without being
actively sought (even if this can be the case for certain candidates who are clearly
heads and shoulders above the others). The insider who wants to enter an elite
preparatory class undertakes the steps necessary for becoming excellent and
signalling this excellence to others (e.g., by working harder or through private
lessons and language study holidays):
Some people know about the École Polytechnique in the last year of
middle school and they work to get in. They have private math lessons at
home, and that’s what I call conditioning.
(Denis, student at the École Polytechnique, comes from the École
Polytechnique of Montréal, admitted through the university pathway for
international candidates; father carpenter; mother social worker)
In other words, excellence is accessible to those who strive for it (Chambliss,

1989) and those who have sufficient economic and social resources to make this
determination pay off. In order to do so, it is always beneficial to be initiated as
soon as possible. Information provided early on increases the probability of not
being eliminated, given the kind of academic record required for admission to the
preparatory classes, or not eliminating oneself in anticipation of the difficulties to
come.
In practice, the initiation process takes place in the family, but also in some
schools which are known to the insiders. In the prestigious centre-city lycées, the
tendency to opt for the most profitable, ambitious choices seems obvious, thus
reflecting the power of local institutional standards. Studying in an elite school
means finding oneself in a micro-environment which limits the space of
possibilities. Indeed, some students speak of mental conditioning:
In my mind, the French system is something I lived from the beginning of

lycée (upper secondary school). Lycée Hoche is totally a part of the system,
like Lycée Henri-IV, Louis-le-Grand, Ginette. When you go there, you’re
going into the machine. You’re 15 years old and you’re already future
prépas. From that time on, they only talk to us about prépas, and about math.
(Chloé, Masters student in Finance and Strategy at Sciences Po;
father, head of a medium-size company; stay-at-home mother)
The elite lycées, as indicated in the foregoing excerpt, are worlds apart from the
ordinary secondary schools and the fact of entering such an institution constitutes
a major step towards the preparatory classes and then the Grandes Écoles. The
The Insiders 151
difference between the elite schools and the others is less quantitative than
qualitative: it does not simply involve doing more than elsewhere but rather,
undergoing a specific socialisation. The initiation this kind of school offers its
students is not only psychological, because of the local norms sharply influencing
their aspirations, but also intellectual, inasmuch as their curricula generally
provide much more advanced instruction which better prepares their students for
confronting the academic demands of the preparatory classes. The rare students
coming from small secondary schools in the regions who manage to enter an elite
preparatory class are immediately struck by the distance separating them from the
‘home-grown’ students coming from the school offering the prépas.
I went to secondary school in Épinal (northeastern France), in a lycée with

a 70% success rate for the bac, but no one talked about what came after. I
went on to a prépa at Henri-IV and there, it was a real shock for me to see
just how many differences there were between the lycées. I had absolutely
no idea of that (and incidentally, I’d say that it’s still taboo). One very
simple example: I’d done a Bac S (scientific) with a specialisation in math
and when I got to my first math class at Henri-IV, I was completely lost. I
had no idea of what was going on. The professor had students go up to the
board and there, a student made a demonstration I couldn’t understand
about a theorem I absolutely didn’t know, which is to say just how lost I
was. And afterwards I learned that he was a literature student, but he’d
come from Henri-IV.
(Elise, student at the École Normale Supérieure; father, doctor,
specialist in a public hospital; mother, hospital pharmacist)
This analysis, developed in greater detail elsewhere (Draelants, 2014), suggests

that academic performance and information are inseparable and that, contrary to
what is often thought, it is not necessarily performance which comes first, but
information. The relationship traditionally assumed between these two elements
consists of believing that performances condition study choices, and this is partly
true if we observe the pathway at a point in time, which is to say, when the
students are about to enter higher education. However, if we consider the school
guidance process more broadly, we find that the choices made long before entry
into higher education, during the entire educational path, themselves condition
the performances.
Conclusion
Starting out from the question of whether the concept of cultural capital is still
relevant for understanding social reproduction through schooling, I have shown
that cultural capital, when it is assimilated to ‘highbrow’ culture, is a resource
with diminishing profitability, limited effectiveness and far from automatic
transmission. Indeed, given the widespread social decline of high culture, only
reading practices remain effective for academic achievement. In this sense, the
reason culture counts for academic success is not something arbitrary but the fact
that it produces cognitive effects and predispositions which favour academic
success. However, these are difficult to bring about, time-consuming and
relatively uncertain. We do not inherit cultural capital like we inherit tangible
goods or economic capital. This is why middle- and upper-class parents now
develop active strategies of cultural transmission which entail daily monitoring of
their children’s schooling and the ‘educationalisation’ of their leisure activities,
but which also leads them to call upon professionals (tutors, coaches) and pay
greater attention to their children’s social and cultural environments. Among the
new strategies of school reproduction privileged by the middle and upper classes,
I have also brought out the growing role of those aimed at the acquisition of
behavioural rather than cognitive skills.
If the concept of the inheritor was useful for thinking about what defined the
privilege of advantaged students in the meritocratic era, the concept of the insider,
in my view, now allows us to think about the new forms of reproduction and
determine what defines the privilege of advantaged students in a ‘parentocratic’
system (Brown, 1990), which is to say, a system where the parents’ means and
wishes play a key role in shaping their children’s schooling. The parallel with the
concept of parentocracy seems justified because initiated parents are essentially
those who do not allow their children’s outcomes or ‘simple academic merit’ to
determine their future. The insiders tackle their children’s schooling head on, as
I have demonstrated through the example of access to France’s elite schools.
Entering a Grande École depends on academic skills and competences which are
inseparable from temporal competence (Masy, 2013), insofar as the academic
skills and competences are constituted over time, throughout the school career,
and in particular, through the choice of schools. This temporal competence
depends in turn on cultural capital of an informational kind which defines a
world of possibilities in each person’s representation of the future.
The shift from the metaphor of the inheritors to that of the insiders also reveals
a real change in the role played by the different kinds of capital in social
reproduction. The transition from the inheritors to the insiders marks a relative
decline in the educational profitability of classic, highbrow cultural capital in
favour of the new ones (informational, international, personal), which do not
constitute autonomous forms of cultural capital but depend on a conversion of
these ever-more dominant types of capital which are economic and social. The
distinction between inheritor and insider thus has a heuristic value as well for
describing the processes of internal educational competition between the different
segments of the middle and upper classes according to the composition of their
capital.
The Insiders 153
Acknowledgement
Translated from French by Miriam Rosen.
Notes
1 I consider here upper-class but also middle-class groups, as a large part of the middle
class is now competing with upper-class parents in the race for educational and social
advantage (van Zanten, 2009b).
2 Paradoxically, the relevance of the highbrow culture is lower in that context than in
the French one, where the academic culture is historically more rooted in the
highbrow culture and focused on its mastery than is the case in the USA and even, but
to a lesser extent, in the UK (van Zanten, 2009b).
3 My argument here is based on the analysis of some 200 semi-directive interviews
carried out with students from four Grandes Écoles in Paris (École Normale Supérieure
[ENS-Ulm], École Polytechnique, École des Hautes Études Commerciales [HEC]
and Sciences Po) and two elite secondary schools offering preparatory classes (Lycée
Henri-IV in Paris and the private Lycée Sainte-Geneviève in Versailles). The
interviews were conducted between December 2005 and March 2009 within the
framework of a collective research project under the direction of A. van Zanten. I
participated in this project on the training of elites from secondary to higher education
as a CNRS post-doctoral researcher.
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9
CAN GEOGRAPHIES OF PRIVILEGE
AND OPPRESSION COMBINE?
Elite Education in Northern Portugal
Eunice Macedo and Helena C. Araújo
Introduction
This chapter focuses on young adults in a private international school for
economic elites, launched in the mid-1980s by a trust that aimed to develop
education in the northern Portuguese region, in a period when the country
joined the EEC (currently EU). The school curriculum has a strong emphasis on
internationalisation and offers what it calls innovative, cooperative hands on
learning, which is said to promote students’ independence, autonomy and
decision-making. The students of the study are privileged because they come
from affluent backgrounds and they have access to a well-resourced school. We
question, however, whether there is a price to pay for the privilege they live in.
In Portugal, high differentiation and specialisation can be associated with
privatisation, liberalisation and modernisation (Afonso, 2013; Cotovio, 2004).
There are increasing political, social and economic pressures on education, which
include the growing vigilance over school life (Nóvoa, 2005) and high
competitiveness. Moreover, the discussions on the quality of education have
legitimated free school choice as an instrument and expression of the
commodification of educational services (Ball, 2003). This has influenced
educational policies, imposing ‘rigour’ and ‘rationality’ and the adoption of
managerial models to education (Stoer, 2001), allegedly to meet people’s needs
and provide efficient and effective teaching.
Associated with processes such as the hierarchical organisation of classes in
public schools that promote educational/social segregation (Cortesão, 1998),
educational elitism has been particularly supported by the privatisation of
education as a way to transfer government responsibilities to private entities
(Carneiro, 2006). This has resulted in a tension between liberalisation and
158 Eunice Macedo and Helena C. Araújo
marketisation that assumes greater autonomy in the face of government rules and
creates new markets that will provide other options, assuring the elite the
distinction (Bourdieu, 1979) previously guaranteed by their exclusive access to
education.
Keeping this context in mind, this chapter begins by presenting the philosophy,
pedagogies, beliefs and assumptions of the school where the study was conducted
followed by a description of the research methods and participants. Next, the
chapter provides a historical overview of elite schooling in the last 80 years in
Portugal to give a sense of how commodification, privatisation and liberalisation
has affected the landscape of elite schooling in the present day. It explores the
concepts of privilege and oppression and their manifestations in the elite school
we studied, which we call the Park School. Building on the analysis of documents
and young adults’ narratives, we question if and how geographies of privilege and
oppression combine, bringing to light intra-gender and inter-gender regularities
and singularities, and ‘class’ hierarchies. Young adult narratives are brought to the
fore to clarify how they see themselves in the world, and the ways in which they
represent ‘others’.
The Research Context: The Park School

The Park School advertised itself as an international school targeting local/
national and foreign students wishing to gain an education in English. The school
promised a balanced, demanding and forward-looking education different from
mainstream state education and other private schools, which offered the German,
French, or English curricula and only until the 9th grade. The school’s
transnational curriculum matched up with the syllabi of the USA, the UK, and
Portugal. A team of specialists, including a Portuguese national, worked on the
three curricular proposals and adapted the non-national ones to the national
curriculum by introducing environmental Portuguese studies and Portuguese
language in junior school (grades 1–4) and Portuguese language and history in
middle and upper school (grades 5–8 and 9–12, respectively). These varied
Portuguese curricula were, however, adapted from the mainstream educational
curriculum, and so was the system of junior, middle and upper school levels. The
school’s iteration of a transnational curriculum with a national/local flavour was
endorsed by the state.
Currently, according to the principal, the school caters for around 800 students
from a number of countries, including China, Spain, England, Sweden, Japan,
Poland, and the Netherlands, to name but a few. The school’s educational
programme has continued to develop and expand, catering to learner diversity
including those with learning disabilities. The school is considered now as one of
the leading international schools in Iberia and has been evaluated by an
international entity. The school is known for its exceptional curriculum that
emphasises ‘concept-based learning’. In this curriculum, students explore pressing
problems in the world and seek sustainable solutions through various projects on
topics such as hunger and global migration. These projects are implemented
school wide. The aim is to prepare students to be principled citizens and lifelong
learners, who will make a difference to those less fortunate than themselves.
The school was selected for the study discussed in this chapter due to its
curriculum specificity and the fact that one of us worked there for more than 10
years before this research. This ethnographic incursion gave us the opportunity to
immerse ourselves into the school ethos—a symbolic space of construction and
assertion of a specific identity that highlights the school’s cultural and educational
uniqueness (Stoer & Araújo, 2000). The advantage of having insider knowledge
of the school, however, meant also that there was a need for a critical reciprocation
between proximity and distancing from the realities observed.
The data collected included school documents and focus group discussions.
The study involved two gender-mixed groups in years 10 and 11, aged 16–18.
Each group of 12 participants participated in four discussion sessions. Most
participants were Portuguese; two young women were English, one young man
was Japanese, and another Portuguese/Polish. We coded the discussion data and
analysed it for emerging themes.
Elite Schooling in the Last 80 Years: A Short Historical Overview

The Portuguese educational system is a centralised one. In the so-called Estado
Novo (New State) (1933–1974), Portugal was subject to an authoritarian,
autocratic and corporatist political regime in which the monopolistic control of
the state in relation to education and all public life prevailed (Abrantes &
Quaresma, 2013; Araújo, 2000; Stoer, 1986). Most private schooling was
subsidiary to the Educator State (Afonso, 1998). Bringing an end to the long period
of dictatorship, the Portuguese Carnation1 Revolution of 25 April, 1974, brought
democratic political, social and economic change, including freedom of expression
and the elimination of censorship. In this revolutionary and post-revolutionary
period, private schooling was associated with the education of the bourgeois elite.
Like all policies, education policies have undergone advances and setbacks.
Law No. 9/79 legitimised and enforced private education, along the lines of free
choice among educational options and teaching conditions. This was reinforced
by the Law of the Education System (1986) that strengthened the right of all to
education and culture. The state lost the right to plan education and culture
according to any philosophy, aesthetics, politics, ideology, or religion. Private
schools and cooperatives guaranteed educational freedom and families’ rights to
guide the education of their children. The responsibility of the state to promote
the democratisation of education was stressed, to assure equal opportunities of
access and success in school.
If this legal framework was well regarded by the political far-right on the
national political spectrum as it paved the way for privatisation, the left-wing
criticised the provision of the law, arguing that it devalued public education and
favoured elitist and socially selective schools for a strict group of a privileged
population (Estêvão, 1998). In 1988, the education minister Roberto Carneiro
stressed the value of private education, formulating the need to give it dignity and
provide the means to assert its more specific vocation. In this line, the Ministry
of Education made alliances with private education sectors to achieve the target
of the national education project to provide education to a wider number of
citizens in the vein of equal opportunities.
In the 1990s—and still in current times—the privatisation of education was a
privileged aspect of neoliberal policies, which included the promotion of high-
stakes testing and accountability directed at the competitive labour market under
the argument that such reform was needed within the globalised economy, and
would promote academic achievement and close the achievement gap.
Privatisation profited from the lack of trust of the population in the political
system and from a certain disenchantment regarding the expansion of equal
opportunities that some authors have described as the crisis of the legitimacy of
the state (Afonso, 1998; Estêvão, 1998). Given the state’s inability to meet the
needs of the population, privatisation was presented as a way to promote equal
opportunities by means of fairer educational services (Estêvão, 2000). Hence, the
implementation of elite education took place within the debate for and against
private education. This still prevails in the current wider context of crisis.
Unemployment, job scarcity and the general impoverishment of the population
have led students to leave private institutions where they have had to pay for
higher school fees.
The argument for private education is based on the right of parental choice of
school and the improvement of schools’ effectiveness in retaining students/clients
through competitiveness (Carneiro, 2006). The argument against private elite
education is that the inherent expansion of elite schools increases social inequalities.
In terms of social justice, the private elite educational service contributes to
segregation among social groups on the basis of families’ economic levels (Belfield
& Levin, 2004; Levin, 2003) and to reproducing intergenerational inequalities
(Macedo, 2009), as some will have access to enriching pedagogies while others
will be subject to poor, less stimulating mass education. Secondly, the impact on
educational choice may increase the distance between the most vulnerable families
and the school (Santiago et al., 2004), as the cultured elites have a closer
understanding of the school culture. The attempt to divide education for the elite
and the poor (Abrantes & Quaresma, 2013) veils the hierarchical nature of the
educational system (Barroso, 2003) and its elitism.
Since 2001, when the first school rankings placed private education in the
spotlight (Macedo, 2012a), the divide between state and private schooling has
had a strong impact on educational elitism and hierarchism. The Portuguese
education system encompasses several types of schools. Public schools are run by
the state and are open to all. Among private schools sponsored by the state, some
address the less favoured populations, including children with a low socio-
economic status. Elite schools are very exclusive due to the very high fees and
student selection. Within the wide spectrum of provision from the most deprived
to the most privileged groups, educational privatisation includes the offerings by
religious groups, private businesses, centres of solidarity2 or parents, and the
provision of state funding to private entities,3 either directly (financial resources)
or indirectly (student scholarships).
If ‘most’ students theoretically have access to private state-funded schools—a
strategy that might reduce the elitist features of some private schools—many
families, however, do not have the cultural strategic thinking to take advantage.
This means that students from diverse socio-cultural groups are differentiated
according to the ways in which they may (or may not) use their cultural capital
in school (Bourdieu, 1986). Moreover, elite schools may select students among
the upper classes who can pay for school fees, supplementary lessons, and other
educational support, augmenting their possibility of entry to the most prestigious
higher education institutions, with negative consequences on educational and
social equity (Macedo, 2009). As is argued in other studies, the educational
options of the “wealthy and highly educated families ... become normalized
through the inculcated expectations of families, the explicit positioning of schools
and the peer culture” (Mullen, 2009, p. 15).
Combined Geographies of Privilege and Oppression?

Located in the northern region of Portugal, the Park School was framed by
educational privatisation, which resulted in the politics of ‘class’, educational
choice, and the ability of upper-class parents to take advantage of educational
choices. This type of situation is also widely documented in research in other
contexts (see, for example, Arnot, 2009; Ball, 2003; Bernstein, 1996; Santiago et
al., 2004; van Zanten, 2009; van Zanten, 2010). The school arose at a time of
intense change in the game of power among nation-states within the global
capitalist system, when political, social, and cultural transformation was increasingly
subordinated to the economy. The school may be associated with a Westernisation
or Americanisation movement; in particular, North American values, cultural
artefacts, and symbolic universes such as individualism, political democracy,
economic rationality, utilitarianism, and the rule of law (Santos, 2001) of dominant
groups. Moreover, the school’s concern about internationalisation shows that it
moves from grooming national leaders (Koh & Kenway, 2012) to producing new
elites who are able to perform well at the national and international levels
(Cortesão et al., 2007; Macedo, 2009; Macedo & Araújo, 2014). Interestingly, the
school invested in teaching Mandarin to prepare students for an anticipated
imaginary future power of China and its influence in the global economy. Hence,
the elite cultural and social power reproduction moves beyond the nation-state to
the wider international, European, and global settings.
Privilege: ‘Class’ Resources, Action, and Cultural Strengthening

Educational sociologists have studied the ‘glamour of elite schools’, emphasising
the ways in which they “reinforce the social, political, cultural, and economic
privilege of dominant groups” (Koh & Kenway, 2012, p. 334). This is the case of
the Park School. It is a school for the economic elites, indirectly sponsored by the
state by means of an agreement between the municipal government and the trust
that created the school, which is constituted by a new upper class comprised of
professions such as engineers, doctors, lawyers, and so on. Whereas the state
provided a building free of charge, the trust was to renovate and maintain it for a
period of time.4
The school fits the trust’s purpose to develop education and culture in the
north of Portugal, and to strengthen and assure the educational/social privilege of
the economic elites and of migrant students with economic capacity. In the same
manner, the launch of the school seems to indicate the concern to assure cultural
inheritance (Bourdieu, 1997; Perrenoud, 1982), resulting from a feeling of loss of
educational exclusivity by the upper classes, due to the national effort to
democratise public schools and the access of new groups to formal education,
under the drive of Europe.
Our research data indicate the contrary belief of a ‘social paradise’ (Bourdieu,
1996; Kenway & Koh, 2013) where full mutual recognition boosts and confirms
individual values within the group in the school. The view of the school as ‘social
paradise’ risks generalisation that occludes tensions among adults and young
adults, young men and women, richer and less rich students, and so forth. Hence,
after referring to the ways in which privilege can be constructed and deconstructed
(Howard, 2008) and the embodiment of privilege through elite schooling (Khan,
2011), we build on the discussion of oppression to question if and how privilege
and oppression can combine.
Oppression: Positioning, Gender Invisibility, and the

Naturalisation of Social Inequalities
The link between oppression and deprivation or poor access to goods is
highlighted by Young (1990). This is not the case for the subjects in the study, as
our analysis will show in the next section. As the author also underlines, oppression
also involves aspects that do not fit into that logic, such as decision-making and
the division of labour and culture, in conjunction with systemic constraints
similar to the ones affecting the people in this study. Our data revealed that subtle
dimensions of systemic structural oppression (ibidem) can combine with a geography
of privilege to position them as ‘others’ within their ‘own’ group due to the slight
presence of symbolic violence and recontextualisation (Bourdieu, 1992, 1997). In
many cases, there is a coincidence between schooling and the individual’s
knowledge and repertoire that naturalises and maximises the power and effects of
the school culture.
The identities of these elite students are politically and pedagogically shaped to
be high performing consumer citizens, but the school culture indirectly reproduces
gender stereotypes and the subordination of ‘others’ who do not belong to the
dominant group. This is the form of structural oppression that is subtly embedded
in the unchallenged rules, habits, symbols, and assumptions of the school
(Bourdieu, 1992).
There are also other dimensions of systemic structural oppression that are not
obvious. There is risk of the reversion of the emancipatory features of cooperative
methodologies into tools for better competition. For example, peer and adult
pressure combine for the completion of tasks and weaker students may be left
behind. Another subtle form of oppression is the preoccupation of young adults
with the accumulation of curricular and extra-curricular demands perceived to
benefit their individual portfolio leaving no time for relaxation and unsupervised
conviviality. Moreover, the vigilance over school breaks and student behaviour
inside and outside the classroom and the strict regulation of lesson time follows
very demanding and rigorous planning and daily routines, which most students
cannot or will not follow. Upper secondary students are also subject to exam
pressures with frequent tests conducted to ensure their success in national and
international examinations and subsequent eligibility into universities, which is
very competitive.
In what follows, we discus the various forms of oppression in greater detail,
evidenced by the data collected through group discussion.
Positioning
Many youngsters verbalised the pressure for performativity and the ways in which
it endangered their opportunity to ‘be young’. Many also expressed that because
of competing priorities from schoolwork, they are deprived of leisure time even
to rest, let alone spending time with their parents. One representative student, for
example, said that:
I lack that freedom of ... “Oh this is cool ... now I’m here in bed, it is a joy,
I’ll take a shower, and then go out to lunch with my parents”.
(Young woman)
Students put in many hours of school and after-school work into the quest of
getting the highest marks in order to get into the best national and European or
American universities. The subtle lesson of competitiveness—useful for the future
in the labour market—is present in the capacity to compete better. Many students
are aware that there is no guarantee that, even with top grades, they are entitled
to a place in the best universities. There is a next rung of competition where the
best of the best compete and are chosen by the best universities. This view is
reiterated by one student who observed that:
Nowadays there is global competition and we need to take ‘A’ in all

subjects to get to the top. Within the ‘A’ there are some who do not get in
the best universities because they have to choose between these people.
(Young man)
Putting at risk all other dimensions of being young and accepting competition as
natural, their ultimate goal is to obtain the best jobs that will provide for a ‘good
life’, associated with high consumption:
If we do not enter a good university, we cannot get a good job, we may [not]
be [able] to scrape the money [together] in the future … We have to get very
good marks so that we can go to a good university, then get a job in order to
sustain us and our family … When I talk about earning money to survive I
mean for food, home life and for fun … I do not want to have a luxury car,
a big house … I know perfectly well that in a few years, I’ll think, ‘Oh, I feel
like having this’, but at 19, 20 I do not want to have a Porsche.
(Young man)
What’s the harm of wishing for that type of thing?

(Another young man)
Consumption was seen as a way to assert status within class hierarchies, even if
some could not care less, and girls in particular claimed the right to be happy:
Money makes the most of our lives … not all … but if we only think of
money we cannot search for happiness.
(Young woman)
In terms of ‘positioning’, these data show how these young adults are under
pressure to perform, to be the best, while accepting that some sacrifices are
necessary such as giving up their freedom and time for families and friends.
Investing in the future so that they may secure a good life is given priority above
everything else. They therefore believe that their success is purely by merit
(Bernstein, 1996).
Changing Gender Invisibility?

Unlike the males, who are represented as universal, fitting in a multiplicity of
contexts and with the skills to handle them all (Arnot, 2009; Nogueira, 2001),
women are represented in reference to the males. In the Park School, the
education of young women for competitiveness, dominance, and success, linked

to the expectation of prominence in the public sphere, points to the subtle
dimensions of systemic structural oppression as well. As this investment is designed in
accordance with male models, it despises other forms of labour that value women’s
experiences, giving visibility to the specificity of their pathways and expectations
(Araújo, 2000, 2010). Because they are also expected to adhere to these same
principles and models, young men are not allowed to break through male
stereotypes by developing divergent thinking and identities.
This school (re)produces ideological and structural gender constraints through
the curriculum and the daily politics. Gender is not taken into account in the
assumptions and practices of the school and is subsumed to an elusive perspective
of gender neutrality, which covers a universalistic male bias. Gender constructs
do not allow the emergence of divergent masculinities and femininities (Macedo,
2012b). However, young adults’ capacity to produce culture is expressed in the
reaction against this. A small group envisages work as a way to become
economically independent:
At eighteen I will not be [at] home anymore and I then start to build my
life. A person should not depend on parents for too long. We should not
need their money … we should try to live at our own expense.
(Young woman)
Reinforced by the school, cultural and social inheritance are evident in the
account provided by this dialogue during a focus group discussion:
My mother works very hard! On Fridays her friends party or have dinner.
Not my mother. ‘So mom, what are you gonna do?’ and my mother, ‘Oh
I have to work today.’ She has her own catering business, alone. It was
created by my grandmother. I will have my own enterprise.
(Young woman)
Social inheritance is also reflected in this data:
My father is the manager of his own metallurgical company. I think of

studying business management because then I can take care of my father’s
company or follow along with him.
(Young man)
And you always have your job assured!

(Young woman)
Not really ... maybe ... you are right!

(Young man)
Work is associated with the possibility to learn how to manage money,

fundamental for independence and the likelihood of high life standards:
I’m not saying that I don’t want to go to work. I want to get a living as I want.
I want to have luxury cars. I admit that I want all those things ... but I want to
earn it by myself ... of course I know that my parents will be there to help me.
(Young man)
Even if young women in particular try to break through, competitiveness,

dominance, and success are the key words in their socialisation, leaving little
room for reflection and informed choice. Like young men, they are trained to
compete in the labour market to fulfil the socially constructed needs they associate
with the ‘good life’.
The Naturalisation of Social Inequalities: Social and

Cultural Autism
In a previous study (Macedo, 2009), cultural and social autism was described as a
problem of incommunicability among groups based on the inability to acknowledge,
understand, and embrace the richness of diversity. This perspective positions the
‘other’ (e.g., black people, homosexuals, uncultured, poor) as inferior, incompetent,
or as failing to comply with the legitimate conditions of the dominant group, the
elites in this case. Such a view can contribute to the construction of reality as a
composite of naturalised facts. This paradigm is sustained in the myth of a common
good in which the values of the group are alleged to be universal. However, only
the group is reinforced by means of self-assertion and strategic individualism in the
construction of its own pathway no matter what and who is left behind. The
‘other’ is made invisible or located in subordination. This dimension of structural
systemic oppression may lead young adults to justify and accept inequalities as necessary
for the ‘proper’ status quo. As a result, these elites often assume a charitable
protectionist and well-intentioned ‘social responsibility’. People who have money
pay ‘others’ so they have the right to work to survive:
A key thing for society to work well is that there are people with money
to help others have a job.
(Young man)
The ‘social responsibility’ ascribed to ‘others’ is to work for the comfort of those
who can pay:
Now I’m talking seriously. If there weren’t people without studies who
would be working for us? Who would do all the little things for us? Would
you go and make your own snack? You’re gonna tidy up your room?
In these cases, the individualist personal view overlaps any form of recognition
of the ‘other’. The young adults who share this opinion see themselves as citizens
whose rights are assured by the fact that they belong to the richest groups of the
population, whereas others are unquestionably placed as dependent manual
workers whose existence is justified by the possibility to assist in the low profile
tasks the elites ought not to do.
Conclusion
The construction of citizenship for and by these young women and men of the
economic elites took place within an institutional geography where privilege and
subtle dimensions of oppression intersect. Over-stimulation and a hyper-
demanding culture, gender invisibility and the naturalisation of social inequalities
are some of the ways in which the price of privilege may be identified. The way
the young adults construct their reality is conditioned by non-universal, specific
structures and processes of cultural transmission sensu lato that (in)form their
(apparent) subjectivity in the interpretation of the structures and principles
governing practices, be they moral, aesthetic, and/or of social assertion. This
leads to the construction of specific strategies and expectations regarding academic
and social integration, and the later entrance into social and work realities.
Intra-gender and inter-gender regularities and singularities, ‘class’ hierarchies
and (dis)similar views became clear, in particular in relation with ‘others’ and the
meanings ascribed to ‘having a good life’. In most cases, both the young women
and men developed self-assertion, managerial, and communication skills, which
will foster their high expectations of academic and professional practice at the top
of the competitive national and international market. Within the institution,
which often reinforced other social contexts of the subjects, most of the year 10
and 11 young women and men revealed the potential for participation and
decision-making in the construction of their personal journeys, as part of the
assertion and empowerment of the powerful side of their voice(s). Considering
gender, some young women in this group intended to use their statutory and
material power to shift away from naturalised forms of gender discrimination. To
assure their right to an autonomous life, they have developed forms of strategic
thinking that include postponing family life to study and build a career. Falling
behind the young women’s academic and professional expectations, most of the
young men accepted family sponsorship and cultural and social inheritance, even
if some asserted the will to shift away from it.
Highlighting the crucial role of this school on young adults’ lives, its education
policies and practices confirmed and empowered them within the particular
culture and conception of life of the economic elite. However, as a form of
systemic structural oppression, the construction of positions of power stands both on
the induction to consumer citizenship and the strategic construction of pathways of
individualisation centred on high performativity, as well as on the naturalisation
of social inequalities. Youngsters’ ‘citizenship’ can be seen as mitigated both by

the obligation of high performativity, which requires the elimination of other
dimensions of being young, and by the induction of social and cultural autism,
where the subordination or annulment of the other emerges as natural. As a
result, the preservation of hierarchies, ‘class’ and gender asymmetries, dependence,
compulsion to consume, individualism, and lack of social commitment become
legitimate. Giving rise to the (hopeful) perspective of a new elite culture that
shifts away from this incommunicability, some people in this group expressed
greater proximity to the different ‘other’ and proclaimed the need for a more
balanced and fair society to which they want to contribute.
Acknowledgement
This work was supported in part by the Portuguese Foundation for Science and
Technology (FCT – Fundação para a Ciência e a Tecnologia) [grant number
PEst-OE/CED/UI0167/2014 – Strategic Project of the Centre for Research and
Intervention in Education/CIIE-UP].
Notes
1 Nomination given to the Portuguese Revolution due to the total absence of violence
and shutting out, even though it was performed by the army with the population’s
support; soldiers’ guns were used as jars in which to place carnations.
2 Centres of solidarity are supported by the state to provide for people with low incomes.
School fees are paid according to family income and the remaining part of the expense
is covered by the state.
3 In 2013, 91 private schools had agreements with the Ministry of Education, a public
expenditure of around 154.9 million EUR (State Budget, 2013). If state funding
started as a means to guarantee education in areas where public schools were lacking
or overcrowded (CNE, 2012), the current rules have eased the state’s financing of
students in private schools, independent of the public provision in the same area, a
shift that puts at risk democratisation, as it fosters the most perverse effects of education
marketisation (Stoer, 2001).
4 A researcher’s inside knowledge as she was hired to start the school and worked there
for several years as pedagogical director, teacher, and cultural coordinator.
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10
“WE ARE NOT ELITE SCHOOLS”
Studying the Symbolic Capital of
Swiss Boarding Schools
Caroline Bertron
Introduction
“We are not, as they are sometimes called, elite schools.”1 This is how, during an
interview, one headmaster described the secondary boarding school that his
family has owned for 60 years. He then went on, opposing “academic intelligence
that not everyone is good at” to “social intelligence that can be developed in
every child”, disregarding the former and praising the latter through examples of
brilliant economic careers of academically mediocre former students.
“You need to understand that we are not a school” is what an admissions
director from another school replied when I asked him about the curricula. He
had no interest in talking about academics or the entrance selection processes. He
talked instead about his career in luxury multinationals, and how the school
mainly recruits students through the “people linked to” it, a more subtle way of
discussing the type of “high society” networks the school relies on. During
interviews, managers, and headmasters at “Swiss international boarding schools”,
as these schools are commonly referred to, frequently resorted to these
explanations. The chapter aims at unfolding how such statements take part in the
making of social distinction in elite schools. The production of symbolic
statements around their uniqueness, implying specific definitions of eliteness and
education, is central to the workings of elite schools’ reputation. This chapter
studies how within the context of an increasingly globalised space of education
(Kenway & Fahey, 2014), the symbolic capital attached to ‘Swiss boarding
schools’ is based on combining cosmopolitan and national categories of perception.
International boarding schools in Switzerland respond, although in very specific
ways, to Gaztambide-Fernández’s definition of elite schools (2009). They are
independent; they provide a sophisticated curriculum that blends components of several
172 Caroline Bertron
national school systems; and they offer a wide range of extracurricular activities. They
are demographically elite: their annual fees exceed 60,000 CHF (US$64,000) per
student, and alumni have powerful careers. They are historically elite, recruiting abroad
since the 19th century among Euro-North American aristocracies and bourgeoisies.
As they were designed from their beginnings for a wealthy clientele living abroad,
they have not contributed to the making of national elites in Switzerland. More
recently, they have welcomed increasing numbers of children from Eastern Asia,
South America, and post-socialist states. The last feature of Gaztambide-Fernández’s
definition is the starting point to the present study: these schools develop a specificity
based on their geographical location. Campuses are based in isolated Alpine areas or
along Lake Geneva, well known for having attracted wealthy foreigners since the
aristocratic Grand Tour and as a result, for concentrating high standard services for the
dominant class by developing banking, hotel, and leisure facilities.
Methods and Presentation of the Schools

The entire study (that I do not report here) relies on 70 interviews (2012–2014)
with headmasters, staff members, teachers, students, and alumni of eight schools,
complemented by the analysis of the schools’ discursive and written productions
over time, and a few observations. I restrict here the analysis to three schools,
which present distinctive traits, such as size, range of price, ownership,
international educational affiliations, and social capital (Bourdieu, 1980) as
displayed by the level of cohesion among alumni and their families. Since schools’
names are based on regional landscape attributes, I use pseudonyms that retain the
imaginary they refer to (Table 10.1). This chapter relies specifically on interview
situations with individuals in charge of shaping the images and reputations of the
schools (headmasters, marketing directors, and admissions directors). In these
three schools, I conducted interviews with four school representatives.
At Institut Les Alpes, the analysis is based on interviews with the headmaster
and admissions director. Both insisted on the uniqueness of Institut Les Alpes,
based on the aristocratic and Euro-North American social capital of the school.
The school is owned by the headmaster’s family and welcomes more than 300
boarders aged 8–18 years. It offers a full range of curricula (International
Baccalaureate, British and American High school programmes, French
Baccalauréat). It is also the most expensive of the three discussed. Several families
have successively owned the school since the end of the 19th century.
In the second school, which I refer to as Lake Institute, the analysis relies on
several interviews with the marketing director. There is no formal alumni
association. The school welcomes more than 100 students and prepares the older
ones for the Cambridge International Examinations, A-levels, and the American
College Admission tests (PSAT, SAT). The same family has owned the school
since the 19th century, and in the 1960s the school changed from being for girls
only to co-educational. It is less expensive and smaller than Institut Les Alpes.
Symbolic Capital of Swiss Boarding Schools 173
TABLE 10.1 Three boarding schools along Lake Geneva: Stylised properties and hierarchies
(data 2012)
Range of price Number Age Number of Number of Alumni International

(high school of students nationalities international association standards and
level) declared curricula/ labels (CIS,
sections ECIS,
offered NEASC, etc.)
Institut Les >US$90,000 >300 >8 >50 4 Very 4 out of 6

Alpes active
Lake ≈US$80,000 100–200 >11 30–40 2 None 4 out of 6
Institute
Rivage ≈US$60,000 <100 >8 >10 2 None 1 out of 6
School
Note: In order to respect the anonymity of the schools and their actors, I only position these
schools in relation to each other, without giving any figures.
In the third school, renamed Rivage School, I conducted a four-hour long

interview with the headmaster. This school is also family-owned but claims to
have no official membership in international networks of schools such as the
Council of International Schools. It is the smallest (with fewer than 100 students)
and the least expensive of the three schools. The school states that it was created
at the end of the 19th century but has changed names, curricula, and owners
several times since its inception.2 Rivage School offers the same range of high
school examinations as Lake Institute and has no alumni association.
These hierarchical elements were also reflected during fieldwork and in the
level of public knowledge about these three schools, but they do not overshadow
very specific common features. All three are family-owned English-speaking
schools for a majority of students for whom English is not their mother tongue.3
Learning French is also compulsory. They have never claimed any religious
affiliation and were created during (or claim legitimacy from) the 19th century.
The schools’ longevity is embodied in their classic material wealth and patrimony
(castle, villa, etc.). Finally, headmasters organise part of their marketing together.
Studying the Workings of “Symbolic Capital of Recognition”

Headmasters and managers extensively built their discourses around an image of
‘Swiss private schools’, all the more, perhaps, because I was perceived as a
foreigner (as a French Korean PhD student). I will not address student and staff
perspectives here, but I will draw on the role of these ‘representatives’ as actors
promoting an educational model or a local commodity to be ‘exported’ as one of
them put it, to attract students from abroad. The object of study thus becomes
how the interviewees use the(ir) past to shape the uniqueness of their schools.
Boarding school representatives indeed develop a sense of history: they emphasise
past practices that seem to stand as immutable traditions (notably the Grand Tour)
but whose meaning is embedded in the current transformations and global
diffusions of international education models.4
The school ‘representatives’ that I interviewed are not only highly educated
but they have upper-class backgrounds. On the one hand, their affiliation to the
upper class is made visible by their aristocratic or bourgeois backgrounds and by
their professional and long-time social networks of clienteles and families. On the
other, they are servicing the upper class by taking care of their children. The
privileged status of the interviewees also contributed to my being relegated to a
generic outsider, who could nonetheless observe the workings of this symbolic
production. To put it another way, the interviewees’ intermediary position, as
cultural producers and entrepreneurs at the service of the dominant class, is crucial
to understanding the dynamics of the interviews.
The interviewees emphasised their status as regional economic actors. Boarding
school headmasters have indeed manoeuvred as entrepreneurs in protecting and
building a private educational sector on a par with other economic actors in
Switzerland and through transnational circulations of pedagogies and social
networks. Nevertheless, although their status as economic actors was made clear,
the privilege of talking about the schools as companies was theirs only. Indeed,
when I used economic lexical repertoires to refer to the schools’ embeddedness
in the economic world and to the standards of their educational model, I was
reminded by the interviewees that my role was to praise the old cultural prestige
of the schools. This interview dynamic of ‘culture’ and ‘economics’ first shows
how their upper-class ethos is crucial for performing past values over the context
of changes in national and old/new elite backgrounds of their students. Secondly,
for several reasons that will be addressed here, it is highly questionable that these
schools’ reputation for attracting foreigners and their long-time cosmopolitanism
(since headmasters purposely promoted their schools to foreign clients as an
alternative to national schools and public schools) make them particularly
responsive to international standards of education. I contend that the way
headmasters and managers define the scope of education in their schools is
situated in an interplay of national and international symbolism (Wagner, 1998).
Building on the dynamics of the interviews discussed above, this interplay can be
analysed as revolving around three topics: the schools’ educational model, their
economic history, and their spatiality. For each of these topics prevailed a
discursive construction of their cosmopolitan image that rejected what is usually
associated with globalisation of education, specifically the standardisation of
curricula, economic globalisation logics in education, and spatial homogenisation.
Even though the interviewees take part in international networks of schools,
they relegate the globalising phenomena in education to an imagined elsewhere
and distinguish themselves through territorial identification. These expressions of
social distinction can be considered as a symbolic construction of the “Swiss
schools” image or their “symbolic capital of recognition” (Bourdieu, 1998). The
chapter is thus building on Bourdieu’s definition of symbolic capital as the object

of strategies of “being perceived”.
Symbolic capital is attached to groups (or to the names of groups, families,

clans, tribes) and is both the instrument and the stakes of collective strategies
seeking to conserve or increase it as well as individual strategies to acquire
or conserve it, by joining groups which possess it.
(Bourdieu, 1998, p. 104)
Bourdieu referred to “symbolic capital of recognition” as a way of conceptualising

Weber’s charisma or Durkheimian school’s mana. He states,
Symbolic capital is an ordinary property (physical strength, wealth, warlike

valor, etc.) which, perceived by social agents endowed with the categories
of perception and appreciation permitting them to perceive, know and
recognize it, becomes symbolically efficient, like a veritable magical power.
(Bourdieu, 1998, p. 102)
Within the context of interviewing boarding school representatives, how does

this symbolic capital work as an ambivalent construction? How is it produced by
the struggles of the actors involved? This approach questions the (uncertain)
effects of the use of ancientness or embodied long-time experience, as legitimation
for the production and reproduction of elites.
Pedagogical Models: Building Private Education over

National Narratives
In his recent ethnography of St. Paul’s School (Concord, NH), Khan (2011)
claimed that even though the upper-class profiles of its students have not changed,
the ideals of meritocracy and openness have replaced old values of social heritage,
namely establishment and entitlement, in the shaping of privilege. In a rereading
of Bourdieu’s work about high culture in France (Bourdieu, 1979), he concluded
that these changes in values express contemporary transformations in the
reproduction of elites and new logics of social distinction.
When considering the image promoted by boarding schools, my own
observations along Lake Geneva are at odds with how Khan analysed openness
and academic excellence to be central to socialisation in elite schools. During one
interview, the headmaster at Institut Les Alpes expressed how they “educate
heirs”, insisting on the term, and that the school quite recently had to “commit
to university”. As he bluntly put it, “These heirs did not need higher education.
Now, university has become part of their legitimacy.” Furthermore, when I
asked what had changed in the school since he arrived in the 1980s, he further
commented on how “Here globalisation dates back to the 19th century, because
the first eight pupils had eight nationalities.” These statements suggest other
symbolic and historical lines defining educational goals than those conveyed by
nation-state bounded educational systems.
Alternative Pedagogies Versus Academic Excellence

The pedagogical vision that the headmaster of Rivage School conveyed merged
his family trajectory with the history of alternative pedagogies. He elaborated on
the local pedagogical filiation, quoting Swiss educators such as Pestalozzi.5 He
also pointed out his family’s engagement in pedagogical research. His ancestors
published a journal where scholars, psychologists, and pedagogues developed
views on specialised education. This journal was also circulated in the public
school system as an organ for educational sciences, but the interviewee repeatedly
opposed the private school ethos of individualised pedagogy to the wider
homogenising frame of public education. He raised private education as a national
characteristic against the background of 19th-century Swiss figures of pedagogues.
He made reference to an imagined European space of rising educational states,
but he excluded Switzerland from it. In Switzerland, indeed, a unified school
system did not emerge as such: education is still left to the local authorities
(cantons), because of linguistic regionalism and separate traditions of schooling.6
Federal unification initiatives were discussed throughout the 20th century but
there remains wide discussion about how to define the historical importance of
the Swiss federal state in educational matters (Hofstetter, 2012). Nevertheless, the
historical line of Swiss pedagogues has also been used in Swiss state schools as a
way of transmitting national values (Boltanski, 1966). This conjunction of public
and private education around a national image embodied by great educators,
raises the question of how boarding school owners appropriate this legacy for the
sake of private education but also in order to produce a national image.
As in Rivage School, the headmaster of Institut Les Alpes described his school
as a “Swiss product” that cannot be imitated. He praised the founder of the
school as a visionary, who started a francophone school that would not be
nationally contained and dominated by Germanic educational patterns. During
the interview, he also quoted Swiss educators and mentioned his aim to “develop
multiple intelligences” as opposed to what he described as the “French catholic
education he received”. He thus excluded both German and French influences
referring to them as the neighbouring and bigger nation states exerting unwanted
cultural domination, from Institut Les Alpes’ specific genealogy. He spoke instead
of the school’s role as “educating a 21st-century honnête homme”, among other
oxymora, merging an old aristocratic conception of education within a future-
oriented frame.
Institut Les Alpes is highly selective (400 applicants every year for 100 new
places), but academic excellence does not define the selection. Applicants’ practise
of sports or arts at a higher level is praised as skills that will be valuable for the
school community and for developing the student’s personality. In a published

essay that he wrote about his pedagogy and “vision”,7 the headmaster put forward
that future students are “recognisable at first glance, in a flash that brings together
the past, the present and the future”. This strangely echoes Herzfeld’s (2000)
description of the “uncanny success” of elites or the mystique that elites usually
develop to explain their perpetuation. The headmaster’s disregard for academic
skills and, more generally, his vision of academics as the surface of achievement
were particularly prominent in the same document where he wrote on “not
talking about technical questions connected to official curricula that do not
present any originality”. Similarly, for the Rivage School interviewee, disregard
for matters other than the development and personality of the child was directly
related to distancing himself from “globalisation”.
We are globalised enough. If you ask me if I have more boys or more girls,
I could not tell you. I have students who look for education here, any
religion, any nationality. I have no interest in knowing which. I accept
these people as they are, and we do our best with the person.
(Rivage School interviewee, April 2013)
International Pedagogies and the Dialectics of Business

and Education
To headmasters, institutions producing assessments in international education are
not primary sources of legitimacy. Quite to the contrary; even if they participate
in these processes on various levels, they also oppose a bourgeois family education
that would be innately cosmopolitan. Headmasters and senior managers develop
alternative views on international pedagogy that show their actual anxiety for
defining their internationality. “International” accreditations are relegated to the
present time, an unenduring image or a global veneer of norms that schools want
to give to parents. For instance, Institut Les Alpes was a pioneer in the making of
the network of the Council of International Schools; the Rivage School
headmaster studied pedagogy in the USA; and all three schools recruit teachers
from IB schools and from public and private English-speaking schools around the
world. To these managers, this did not make a difference in promoting the
schools: “education” was opposed to “business”, the latter being understood
through the frame of education multinational firms, such as Nord Anglia,8 that
take over many boarding schools in Switzerland. Institut Les Alpes’ headmaster
named several of these companies, noting that “they don’t come from education”
and rejecting how financialisation shapes their goals. Similarly, in Lake Institute,
the marketing director, who used to teach in the school, justified the existence of
a separate marketing department, while dissociating herself from “people who
take care of that” because, she said, they “come from the business world, they
used to sell dairy products [meaning multinationals] or hotel rooms, but I know
the house, and I know what I am talking about with parents. We don’t have this
commercial aspect that can frighten parents.”
In a nutshell, during interviews, pedagogy was neither defined according to its
adequacy in relation to international standards nor through academic excellence.
Interviewees stressed the “magical power” of success, not by praising the best
students at school but those who are economically successful professionals regardless
of academic results. When interviewees talked about international standards of
education, they either displayed their distance with multinationals in education and
global educational organisations (even if they took part in shaping these networks)
or they evoked the transformations in the local structure of the Swiss boarding
schools market. In contradistinction, they defined themselves as family businesses.
Family Businesses: The Economic Logic of Education and

its Negation
School owners and managers shifted from educational matters to economic
matters rather naturally, using the analogy between family business and family
education. More precisely, they insisted on an understanding of the family
business as a way to present their pedagogy. Telling the story of their “company”
can be considered as a strategy to differentiate themselves from the many and
bigger international day schools that recruit among international managers living
in Switzerland (although boarding schools do not directly compete with most of
them). As a way to display their aristocratic distinction, they distinguished their
own upper-class clientele from expatriates and mobile managers who attend
international day schools (see for instance Wagner, 1998). But the interviewees
also perceived the protection of local economic interests and networks of old
families of entrepreneurs as threatened by newcomer international day schools.
They clearly differentiated marketing and the common image of their schools as
a “Swiss product to promote abroad” on a par with international day schools,
from the long-standing connections and friendships with families owning
boarding schools in Switzerland. They thus positioned themselves in a space of
entrepreneurial discourses, and as such, I contend that their institutional images
can be analysed as part of the sociology of companies’ symbolic production
(Boni-Le Goff & Laurens, 2013).
Symbolic Constructions: Equating Family Business with

Family Education
The headmaster at Institut Les Alpes praised the irrational economic decisions
and “mad projects” that the successive school owners with “entrepreneurial
spirit” took over time in order to expand the campus and range of extracurricular
activities. This narrative scheme relies on an economic discursive repertoire, as
do the Lake Institute and Rivage School interviewees who use family education
as another word for family business. School size, individualised education, and
preceptorship, taken as remnants of domestic education, were commonly used
for defining these schools’ main features.
In Lake Institute, the head of marketing extensively relied upon the narrative
of the family business. Lake Institute was presented as being handed down from
mother to daughter and to sister since the end of the 19th century, changing from
a French-speaking boarding school for girls (finishing school9) to a co-educational
English-speaking “international school”. This institutional narrative can be
understood with regard to the larger transformations of the local space of boarding
schools. In the 1960s, as a result of family conflicts, the school buildings, which
were then separated into two sections, became two distinct schools. One family
branch took the finishing school for young women, while the other school,
directed by another family branch, soon became co-educational and adopted
internationally recognised curricula. At the end of the 1970s, the latter had
acquired an academic reputation abroad. Their headmistresses, two sisters, were
left without any successor, so their niece, the daughter of the heads of the all-girls
branch, took over the two schools. She “brought back together the school and
the family”, the marketing director smilingly said, while giving up the finishing
programmes that had made the school’s reputation for families over the world,
and that had contributed to further expanding a model of elite feminine education
as European domestic and salon education.
The passage from an institution designed for educating elite young women to
their future roles of housewives, to a co-educational English-speaking and self-
labelled as “international” school has been turned into an institutional narrative.
This gave rise to the institution cultivating two distinct types of legitimacy: a
traditional upper-class education in a small-scale family school and a modern
international instruction. Academics won over domestic education and “the
family” overcame their inner division, at a time when the many girls’ and finishing
boarding schools in the region shut down, so that Lake Institute is also presented
as the one girls’ school having succeeded within an entire sector that collapsed.
In Rivage School, the headmaster took over the school after his father. He
traced his genealogy from his grandfather to his own children, who were now
about to be handed the same role. All the men in the family line have had either
degrees in finance and careers as traders and bankers, or careers in psychology and
education, before they took over one or several schools in the region, thus
building what now resembles a family empire of schools. During the interview,
this accumulation of economic and educational resources was performed in such
a way as to highlight the interviewee’s social position as an entrepreneur and
regional leader. He explained:
I could not have built this school myself were it not for my father and
grandfather. I could not gather enough money. If you ever said business
[said in English] for a school, my grandfather was really furious. Now, all
of my colleagues speak about marketing. That is a threat, really. I can tell

you that multinationals who take over schools here, they lost their soul;
schools become like factories.
The interviewee highly praised family continuity throughout the network of

schools they run and if business and marketing are forbidden words to him,
finance as a profession is omnipresent in his ancestors’ careers; in this way, the
economic dynasty endures. He equated family business to family education,
pitting them against a background of changes in business situations and
international curricula, processes from which he excluded himself. Dominated by
these processes, the Lake Institute and Rivage School interviewees were both
anxious to maintain an economically viable “small school” and put forward
alternative narratives that associate past grandeur with local families, thus
reinforcing their regional identification.
As mentioned earlier, the interviewees used and banned economic words at
will, and I was reminded that it was not my place to equate the school with a
company in any way. As I have discussed so far, calling anything “international”
also proved a very sensitive area. To the interviewees, the common indisputable
basis was “family” and “families”, meaning at the same time the dynasty, the
family enterprise, “family education” and their faraway clients. “Family” was the
ideology that brought together “culture” and “economics”, marrying international
and local identification.
Family attributes can be analysed as the legal shape of ownership, the basis for
social organisation, a sign of longevity and as a metaphor for education (see for
instance, Marcus, 1988; Lenoir, 2003). However, as the privileged expression of
elite exclusivity and succession (Herzfeld, 2000), “family” is also the marker for
the interviewees’ belonging to the upper class. As we saw in this section, their
presentation as economic actors went through denying the use of economics to
define their activity (education), meanwhile featuring the narrative of a successful
family enterprise.
Presenting Schools as Local Economic Actors

School representatives performed their social status as entrepreneurs, by claiming
their economic impact in the region, a role that they have promoted and been
recognised for throughout the 20th century by the public authorities. Interviewees
also considered themselves embedded in a local economy of luxury services,
working on a par with other economic actors attracting foreign capital. As one
interviewee put it:
Many alumni come back and buy an apartment or a cabin, since the 1950s.
We have been invited by a group of Germans, they all had a villa in V***.
It was good to know. Students like the region and get attached very
quickly. There is a high potential, like with an airline. I’ve been told that
about Swiss Air. If you take an airline as a young man, you remain loyal, as
with your bank. This is a real strategy actually. We work very well together;
there is nothing to be said about them, airlines and banks. We treat our
students, especially the older ones as “private banking”. We pamper them
and banks know that as well.
While visiting the campus and its facilities, I asked the admissions director from
Institut Les Alpes if students could come to the sauna and fitness centre whenever
they wanted. He pointedly reminded me “We are not a hotel. They need to be
accompanied.” In Rivage School, after talking about academics for what was
maybe a little too long for him, the headmaster switched topics: “We have one
part that is about teaching, and you should not forget that, one hotel part.” He
was talking about how much the management in the school is organised the same
way as hotels are.10 At Lake Institute, as we saw earlier, domestic education is a
difficult heritage: the “finishing school” for girls’ past practices needed to be
turned into formalised curricula. Nevertheless, the Lake Institute interviewee also
emphasised the “hotel” and “family atmosphere” aspect, and talked about how
the school has long been connected with touristic promoters in the region.
Lake Institute and Rivage School interviewees not only promoted a certain
upper-class idea of comfort for sojourners and domestic education; they also
pointed out the very high ratio of teachers and staff compared to students, which
was almost 1:2, referring to an imagined world of “private lessons” and classes of
fewer than 10 students. In Institut Les Alpes, the interviewees were at the same
time prone to show the costly and unusual leisure campus facilities and to temper
their recreational aspect by affirming academic rules of how students must use
them. Drawing upon the memory of a common and local genealogy of boarding
schools, hotels, and boarding houses,11 these discourses can be better understood
against the background of the rise of the “industry for foreigners” in the Lake
Geneva region at the end of the 19th century (Figure 10.1) (Humair, Tissot &
Lapointe Guigoz, 2011; Tissot, 2000).
Politics and Nature: The Symbolic Economy of Territorial

Identification
During the interview, the Institut Les Alpes headmaster stated that “A true
international school can only exist in Switzerland.” Praising Switzerland’s state
educational model while at the same time restricting its scope of action, he added
that “In France they call it Education Nationale; this is not accurate. In Switzerland,
they call it Instruction Publique, and it is closer to reality.” Affirming the school’s
territorial affinity, Rivage School headmaster explained that he had had “offers
FIGURE 10.1 Advertisements for all-girls boarding schools.

Source: Excerpts from L’éducation en Suisse 1907–1908, 1907 (4th edition), Paul-Ch. Stroehlin
Editeur, Genève, p. 399 and p. 473. Bibliothèque de Genève, BGE Cc497.
from Saudi Arabia to create a school there”, that officials invited him and he
went, but finally refused: “I said that I could do it, but I would not have the mix
of nationalities. If you come here [to Switzerland], you meet the world, and I
cannot do that in another country.” School owners and managers expressed local
territorial identification, conveying both an idea of local cosmopolitanism and an
affinity of the local landscape with a political model.
International Relations as a Worldview

Boarding schools’ representatives introduced their roles and the historical
evolution of their student body in the wider scope of world history and
international relations.
Three days after the collapse of the Berlin wall, we already had the first East
Germans and the Russians. I asked them “Who talked to you about our
schools?” And they said “Our grandfathers.” They said “If you ever have
the chance to send your children abroad, send them to Switzerland.” These
families want a personalised education, they want what we do here.
We once had Israeli parents who did not want their child to share his room
with a student of Arabic origin, and that time, we refused. We refused that
they change rooms. And at the end of the semester, the students had
become real friends. Children accept things.
(Lake Institute interviewee, January 2013)
This view of the world order can be considered as a way for the interviewees to
perform self-presentations as witnesses to such events as the fall of the Berlin wall.
The Cold War, oil shocks, and exchange rates were also modes of interpretation
for explaining changes in their student population. Calling on such great events,
combined with their sometimes personal relationships with their protagonists,
suggests two lines of interpretation. Firstly, it points to how these social actors
produce mystique surrounding their role as the educators of children of the
powerful. Secondly, these stories refer to a naturalised representation of the world
order (according to which changes in recruits reflect those in the global society)
and they refer to an imaginary of Switzerland’s place in world history.
Landscape and Politics: The Building of a National Image

In a rather forgotten book entitled Le Bonheur Suisse (Swiss happiness), Boltanski
(1966) provocatively discussed the construction of a national image and processes
of identification asking “Why are the Swiss identifying with the picture that
travellers and touristic books draw?”12 Reversing the question, I examine how
the use of the landscape takes part in the production of “being perceived” (Bourdieu,
1998). How do these schools’ symbolic productions rely on the long-time
association between landscape and national character?
Boarding school owners and managers emphasised environmental, sanitary,
and aesthetic qualities that tend to convey a national image for foreigners.13
Here we are in the countryside [smiling before the castle and recent modern
architecture building facing vast areas of green grass]. Before, there were
cows in this meadow.
(Institut Les Alpes interviewee, December 2012)
Well-off families started to come to Switzerland to go to clinics and

sanatoria, to have fresh air. […] And they were enchanted by what they
found: the beauty of the landscape, the quality of life here, also for people
who like skiing and who like nature … So people started to create schools.
(Lake Institute interviewee, March 2013)
Geographically speaking, you are in an area with a very healthy microclimate

for our students, to which we pay much attention. I think it is one of the
reasons why they built this building here.
This performance of the landscape refers to attributes usually associated with the
Swiss national ethos. Interviewees easily presented themselves as observers of
world history, seeing from a distance the coming and going of students from this
or that nationality, calling attention to Switzerland’s political advantages for
foreigners and to local aesthetic attributes thus merging into the symbolism for
neutrality and internationalism. The social and political discursive uses of the
Swiss landscape are part of the symbolic capital attached to the schools, the long-
time construction that the school representatives turn into a resource to promote
their schools. We may then read the interviewee’s abovementioned statement
“An international school can only be in Switzerland” as the production of a
nationally framed image. The production of stories, be they local or bigger
narratives, converges in territorial identification. As a system of representation and
of cultural categories, this identification is challenging sociological categories of
analysis, such as ‘international’, ‘elite’, and ‘excellence’. How the actors actually
use it partakes in a struggle for the symbolic resources that elites may identify with.
Conclusion
From the perspective of painting a global picture of ‘elite schools’, the main
specificity of ‘Swiss boarding schools’ is first that from their early years, these
institutions were designed for foreigners. It follows that their location, along Lake
Geneva and in the Alps, made them institutions contributing, from the margins
of European systemic centres such as Paris and London, to the formation of a
cosmopolitan ethos, which in return can be considered as a prerogative of the
European elites (Cousin & Chauvin, 2014).
The space–time symbolic frame that the boarding school ‘representatives’ use
to assert their long-time legitimacy in raising children of the elites expresses their
position in a global space of elite schools. This claim reflects a tension between
their current dominated economic and symbolic position among ‘internationalist’
and academic sources of legitimation for ‘elite schools’ on a global scale on the
one side, and on the other side, the idea that glorification of the past and
imagination of an aristocratic and territorial genealogy are longstanding resources
central to the symbolic logics of elite reproduction.
Through promoting a sense of ‘family’ belonging and natural international
environment, these actors indeed promote cosmopolitanism as a local tradition.
These discursive arrangements contribute to keeping these ‘Swiss boarding
schools’ out of the picture of nationally bounded elite schools. But, if they can
historically be called ‘cosmopolitan schools’ because they partly reproduce the
conditions of past practices and expectations of domestic education among

European elites, they are also schools where the national scale is a major symbolic
resource.
Acknowledgements
This PhD research benefits from funding granted by the Ecole Normale
Supérieure (Paris) and Université Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne. Thanks to Myrtille
Picaud and Carse Remos for their careful readings of earlier versions of this
chapter.
Notes
1 All the interview excerpts are translated from French.
2 This change of names actually allows analysing the school’s foundation time as a claim
for legitimacy. This raises discussion about how school owners seek legitimacy from
older times, and the “invention of tradition” (Hobsbawm & Ranger, 1992) that the
Grand Tour symbolic value gives rise to.
3 The younger students especially often go through intensive programmes of English as
a second language.
4 For similar questions around longstanding elite schools using their historical legitimacy
and positioning themselves into global dimensions of elite schooling in other areas, see
Rizvi’s study (2014) of Ripon College in Central India.
5 Johann Heinrich Pestalozzi (1746–1827), a pedagogue from Zürich, is well known,
among other Swiss educational reformers of the 18th and 19th centuries, for having
implemented his own pedagogy based on the understanding and autonomy of the
child, in his institute in Yverdon-les-Bains. He also played a major role in the shaping
of public educational systems in Switzerland, especially about educating lower classes.
Influenced by Rousseau, he published many writings about his pedagogy that were
read and followed abroad during his time, especially in France and Germany.
6 Switzerland is divided into 26 cantons. Each canton has its own educational system
and related authorities. Educational coordination at the federal scale is limited and put
under the authority of the Federal Department of Economic Affairs, lately renamed in
2013, Federal Department of Economic Affairs, Education and Research.
7 Full references of the essay (published 2012) have been shared with the editors of the
volume. They remain confidential in order to preserve the anonymity of the
interviewees. This also concurs with the changes of the school names in this paper.
8 Nord Anglia is a British multinational (1972) that was relocated in Hong Kong in the
2000s. It operates over 30 international day schools in 13 countries, notably British
International Schools in the USA, Eastern Europe, China, and the Middle East
(website, consulted 25 November 2014). Since the 2000s, it has bought out four old
private schools in Switzerland. These are now the oldest schools of the group, and two
of them are boarding schools.
9 Even though the programmes changed a great deal over the time, such schools as Lake
Institute were designed in the first half of the 20th century to teach languages and arts,
but also home economics, ‘manners’, or as documents from the school’s archives show
“how to become a good hostess”.
10 Many managers are indeed recruited from the hotel sector.
11 As historians have suggested (Tissot, 1999), Swiss girls’ boarding schools were
sometimes indistinct in their structures and advertisements from boarding houses,
clinics, and hotels that hosted European and especially British travellers. These
businesses altogether contributed to the touristic development along Lake Geneva
shores. Moreover, connections in the local economy between boarding schools and
the hotel industry have constantly been reasserted throughout the 20th century. At the
beginning of the 20th century, boarding school advertising brochures merged school,
hotel, home and upper-class cosmopolitanism in their promotions.
12 Translated from French.
13 As historian François Walter put it (2005), the ideological and aesthetic system of the
Swiss landscape is a system of production of metaphors.
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school. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
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Pedroso de Lima (Eds.), Elites: Choice leadership and succession (pp. 227–236). Oxford,
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11
TOURISM, EDUCATIONAL TRAVEL,
AND TRANSNATIONAL CAPITAL
From the Grand Tour to the ‘Year Abroad’
among Sciences Po-Paris Students
Bertrand Réau
Introduction
Educational trips in the form of the circulation from one university to another,
the peregrinatio academica, has existed since the Middle Ages and has since been a
part of the cultural schooling of scholars and young elites in Europe. In the 17th
century, the invention of the Grand Tour changed the functions of educational
travel. The Grand Tour completed the education of young male aristocrats.
These privileged youths had acquired their cultural exposure from the foreigners
who were part of their family circle—a tutor or a servant who provided them
with their first exposure to the social world. The Grand Tour further broadened
their horizons. This journey lasting several months enabled them not only to
meet with scholars and peers, but also to ‘slum it’ by living in physical conditions
less comfortable than normal. Tourism (understood in this chapter as leisurely
mobility which participates in socialisation) gets its name from the Grand Tour.
This practice, at first reserved for aristocrats, then extended to the bourgeoisie,
progressively expands to the middle and lower classes in the second half of the
20th century. In current times, educational travel is not exclusively reserved for
an elite. Thus, the “European Region Action Schema for the Mobility of
University Students” (ERASMUS) programme offers European students the
opportunity to spend a year at a foreign university. Erasmus trips allow students
to acquire and mobilise cultural resources such as knowledge of languages,
‘openness’ to other cultures and dispositions towards mobility. Elite French
universities such as Sciences Po go even further by/in incorporating the year
abroad in their curriculum: “ in a world where borders are increasingly open, the
training must be international” (Sciences Po website, 2011).
In keeping with Pierre Bourdieu’s notion of capital, researchers are interested

in the social effects of globalisation on the transformations of relations of power.
The notions of “international capital” (Wagner & Réau, 2015), “cosmopolitan
capital” (Weenink, 2007), or even “transnational capital” (Börjesson & Broady,
2007) allow us to reflect on transnational social spaces, on the relationships
between national fields in a globalised world and seek to analyse the reinterpretations
of power relationships involved.1 Different social groups are mobile outside their
country of origin and maintain relationships with individuals of other countries.
The forms of mobility (labour migration versus authorised travel) and the types of
relationships (cooperative versus elitist, private versus professional) vary socially
and historically. But, in fact, mobility and an interpersonal network do not
constitute, in and of themselves, a capital, which is to say a social relationship, at
once a resource and a power struggle, in a field. Following the example of three
types of cultural capital identified by Bourdieu (cultural, social and symbolic),
international capital can be found in an institutionalised form (MBA degrees for
example), an incorporated form (the cosmopolitan dispositions that constitute the
mobility and interactions with the international as an integral part of the identity
and social aspirations), and an objectivised form (the ownership of economic
goods in several countries for example).
Using a summary of historical and sociological work as well as a survey of
students from Sciences Po (interviews and analysis of their written reports
concerning their study abroad year), this chapter questions the methods of
transmission of international capital in its institutionalised and incorporated form.
It is more precisely a question of putting into perspective the functions of tourism
and educational travel (understood here as a measure explicitly oriented towards
the transmission of cosmopolitan dispositions) in the development of a
cosmopolitan habitus. The comparison between different types of mobility and
of the acquisition of international ‘attributes’ (such as speaking several languages
or travelling in various countries) emphasises the social conditions necessary in
order for these ‘attributes’ to act as capital.
In which conditions, can students accumulate a transnational capital that
reinforces their position in the national field of power (Dezalay & Garth, 2010;
Kenway & Koh, 2013)? What are the functions of the educational trips and of
tourism in the transmission of this capital? After having retraced the role of
mobility in the schooling of elites, the analysis of Sciences Po will focus on the
mechanisms of the transmission of cosmopolitan dispositions.
Aristocratic Mobilities in Europe (16th to 18th Centuries)

In Humeurs Vagabondes, Daniel Roche (2003) undertakes to “measure the effects
of modernity, including the formation of modern states, on the mobility of people
and their activities” (Pattieu, 2007, p. 111). Often presented as ‘immobile’ in
relation to societies of the 19th century and the Industrial Revolution, the societies
190 Bertrand Réau
of the 16th and 17th centuries contained a different form of functional mobility
that was not only limited to the aristocracy. However, successful mobility had to
be prepared according to specific codes. For the aristocracy, several forms of
mobility were involved in the education of youth. Without using the same means,
the peregrinatio academica and the Grand Tour aimed at developing common rules
for young male aristocrats. Between these two formulas, there were other practices
that also contributed to educating young nobles, such as travelling with the army.
The Peregrinatio Academica2

Despite accounts to the contrary, the universities of the Middle Ages did not see
staggering amounts of movement across their academic circles. In contrast, the
universities of the Modern era (16th/17th century) witnessed a greater mobility
among their students throughout Europe. Around 1400, less than 10% of students
appeared to have attended more than one university. Thus, traffic between
universities (peregrinatio academica) was a limited phenomenon. Students sought
out both knowledge and social capital when studying in foreign cities such as
Paris. Student mobility also varied by discipline. Students in law and medicine
were more active internationally than those in theology and in the arts (with the
exception of the Sorbonne and the University of Louvain for theology). Given
that only a portion of the peregrinatio academica was concluded by obtaining a
degree, what were the motives of these movements?
The quality of teaching was far from the sole criterion. Religious reasons or
easy access to gaining a title were other motivations for pilgrimages. Mobility
between universities facilitated students’ exposure to other political and social
systems and different lifestyles. It helped to expand family networks. In this sense,
this circulation aimed to maintain and develop the international social capital of
the family: the visits reinforced the connections between groups through the
physical intermediary of an individual. This extra academic exposure derived
from ‘academic traffic’ was regarded as just as important as the knowledge students
acquired. For instance, between 1550 and 1600, Felix and Thomas Platter
successively undertook their academic journeys in Switzerland, France and the
Languedoc. During their travels, they were never truly alone: they belonged to a
group of peers that shared the same classes, games, readings, parties and financial
assistance. Aside from the scholarly-oriented academic journey (which continued
until the 17th century), the Grand Tour provided another goal for the young
nobility, to become ‘civilly trained’ according to the distinction made by the
Secretary of State of Queen Elizabeth, Sir William Cecil.
The Grand Tour

Invented by the British aristocracy in the 17th century, the Tour was linked to
renewed patterns of mobility. It represented the last step in the training of young
male aristocrats. This practice applied to almost all European noblemen. The
Tour had to take place at an age when a person was “not too young to be easily
corrupted or too old to be able to change habits” (Pattieu, 2007, p. 112). The
journey primarily taught a set of life skills that could not be learned at home. The
travel books and guides that multiplied throughout the 18th century were both a
form of literature in themselves and real guides that defined standards of travel
and stabilised forms of travel writing. Knowledge of other countries could also
serve as a reflection on the traveller’s own society. Wealthy families supplemented
their sons’ education with a tutor who was expected to take on the role of guide,
confidant and friend. Far from the family home, parental authority was relaxed.
Pupils had a lot of freedom (Mead, 1914, pp. 103–139). The young Englishmen
did not receive adequate preparation for their journey. In general, educational
standards were low. If the young man had studied at Oxford or Cambridge, he
would have learned the rudiments of Greek and Latin as well as some features of
ancient Rome and other cities. However, he would be largely ignorant about the
topography, history, government, art, architecture, and social conditions of the
countries to be visited.
The journey took place in several specific stages. The first tour stop was the
English coast. The second step brought tourists to Paris via Amiens, Chantilly,
and the Abbey of Saint-Denis. Paris was a central destination in France and in
Europe. While the city did not offer the antiques and art found in Rome and
Florence, it was home to many important historical sites and a wide range of
cultural and social activities in which tourists could participate. Those on the
Grand Tour were not dependent on the recreation of the royal court as was the
case in Vienna, Madrid, Berlin, or Dresden or more in the small German, Danish,
and Polish courts. Luxury shops, especially for suits, were a major attraction.
However, the most common route was one that led to Italy via Lyon and the
Rhone Valley. In Italy, these ‘grand tourists’ took into account the climate, but
also special events (like the opera in Reggio, Bologna, and Milan, the carnival in
Naples and Venice, or religious ceremonies in Rome). From Milan to Venice,
Italy offered a wide range of entertainment. The goal of many tourists was to
reach Rome as a final destination. The city’s economy depended more on tourists
than that of Paris, notably through sale of paintings and antiques. Most roads in
Europe were in poor condition and poorly managed, making access to many
places difficult. For the most part, the young aristocrats chose the same roads
(which did not necessarily mean they had the same experiences). They found a
large variety of lodgings available to them (Black, 2003, pp. 14–76).
Grand tourists preferred big cities for several reasons: there could be found the
greatest diversity of social and cultural activities, the largest variety of culinary
experiences, standards of comfort best suited to their tastes, but also banks for
withdrawing money. The young men travelled from one destination to another
meeting men of state, and secretaries of embassies, attending the courts and
churches, visiting the monuments, libraries, colleges, scholars, and processions,
192 Bertrand Réau
and even going to executions. While social pleasures often outweighed the rigours
of scientific study, the young aristocrats retained elements of a pre-planned
itinerary (Roche, 2003, p. 691). During their journey, they had to learn either
French or Italian. French, in particular, represented an essential part of privileged
young men’s training. With knowledge of the French language, they could travel
across France, Holland, Germany, Italy, Russia, and Sweden. In practice, the
English rarely spoke French and often stayed together. Most had no other goal
than to enjoy themselves in capitals like Paris, Berlin, Turin, Florence, and Rome.
Finding visits to monuments boring, they played cards, walked through the
countryside, and people watched. The moralists of the time denounced such
behaviour as a kind of disease. Places to visit were largely predetermined before
the trip. The Grand Tour was also an opportunity to live outside the constraints
of one’s family. Sociability with peers, dating, gambling, and alcohol were an
integral part of socialisation of these young, healthy and poorly supervised men
who found many opportunities for sexual adventures and/or love. However, very
few explicitly wrote about this in their correspondence. Similarly, public opinion
was largely hostile towards these adventures, for moral reasons as well as for
practical reasons; many were concerned about the importation of venereal diseases
into Britain. One major risk for families was a misalliance: if the young aristocrat
eloped with a romantic conquest from a lower social class, it could ruin his family’s
hopes and the entire economy of marriage. In reality, most relationships were
limited to one-night stands and many young aristocrats resorted to prostitution.
Gradually, as the 18th century progressed, increasing numbers of young men
from the wealthy middle classes began participating in the Grand Tour, copying
the vices and follies of young aristocrats, flaunting their wealth, and trying to
become gentlemen. William Edward Mead defended the idea that by becoming
a fashionable and ‘conventional’ practice in addition to a symbol of social status,
the Tour had lost its educational function (Mead, 1914). Yet, it would be an
oversimplification to say that the Grand Tour evolved linearly from an educational
endeavour to a leisure activity. Jean Boutier proposed that diverse forms of travel
co-existed (those with educational and mundane purposes) during the same
époque (Boutier, 2007).3 Finally, this system allowed families to avoid potential
conflicts with young adults by tolerating abroad what they would not tolerate at
home. Travel expenses and excessive indulgence of the young aristocrats remained
a ‘lesser evil’ than their impatience in claiming political power and wealth within
the family. In the end, “the Grand Tour was a prerequisite of social and cultural
status bringing together diverse political and educational needs: it helped to train
the statesman to be a man of the world, one with certain sensibilities” (Roche,
2003, pp. 694–695).
The peregrinatio academica and the Grand Tour were two forms of educational
travel. Despite profound changes in the social structure since the late 18th
century, the education of elites through travel continues today. The quality of
educational travel remains a constant concern amongst teachers and thinkers who
reflect upon the education of elites. However, with the spread of the practice of
tourism and educational travel among the middle classes, how can education
through travel continue to be socially distinctive? With the spread of international
attributes, under what conditions do the different forms of travel participate in
enhancing the transnational capital of upper classes (and thus, the reproduction of
the dominant positions)? This can be explored through an examination of the
practices of students from Sciences Po in the early 2000s.
Sciences Po: From the Opening to the International Integration

By the mid-1990s, the French elite school Sciences Po4 had strengthened its
worldwide network. With approximately 13,000 students, and a network of 410
universities worldwide, 14 taught languages, the Institut d’Etudes Politiques de Paris
had mandated since 2000/2001 that the third year be spent abroad for internship
training or university studies. Sciences Po also established specialised curricula
(for example East European, Franco-German, Middle Eastern, Mediterranean,
Latin American, Spanish, Portuguese, and Asian studies). “These programmes of
studies aim to accommodate the same number of French and international
students for a multilingual and comparative education. They aim to develop a
generation of students familiar with the issues in different countries and different
systems who are able to work in and with different cultures.” (Sciences Po
website, 2011). Sciences Po has introduced the possibility of enrolling in double
degree programmes with prestigious universities (London School of Economics,
for example). Among the 410 partner universities, a significant number belong to
the top 100 Academic World Ranking of Shanghai (for instance, Berkeley,
Columbia, Oxford). Sciences Po has agreements with prestigious universities on
each continent. In 2002, 75% of students at Sciences Po found that “the
internationalisation in the reform of Sciences Po” is “a very good thing”. A large
majority of students belong to the upper classes. In 2002, 32.5% had fathers who
were senior executives, 19.1% had fathers who were professionals, and 15% of
the students’ fathers were teachers; 27.3% of mothers were teachers, 14.8% were
employees or workers, and 14.5%, professionals. Of 100 students, 49 had a father
and a mother who graduated with more than two years of education at the
university or in an equivalent elite university (as Sciences Po). For 84% of
students, their parents finance their studies (Catzaras et al., 2004).
International Attributes and Transnational Capital

Students must submit a report at the end of their time abroad. It is usually composed
of three parts: one concerns the administrative steps taken to go to the university in
question, the second deals with the administrative processes and course choices, the
third provides practical advice and commentary about entertainment and travel. It
is hardly surprising that an analysis of 239 student reports reflects the importance
194 Bertrand Réau
given to teaching, quality of life, and different forms of sociability. Sciences Po

students are more often involved in clubs, and more ‘politicised’ than other students
from universities (Catzaras et al., 2004); they also have regular cultural practices and
celebrations (visits, outings with friends). Travel stories often occupy a large share
of the reports: making explicit the expectations of study abroad. Given the social
background of these students, we can assume that they have already had many
opportunities to travel (Cousin & Réau, 2009). Similarly, they are more likely than
other students to not live with their parents during their studies, thus experiencing
a degree of autonomy.
Therefore, we find characteristics similar to those of Erasmus students: a more
privileged social background, socialisation before travel, a first experience of
independence, regular cultural leisure, and a diverse and quality education. But the
difference between the Erasmus programme and that of Sciences Po is found in
Sciences Po’s agreements with prestigious universities and the diversity of
universities offered for student exchange.5 Still, the prestige and the variety of
agreements offered at Sciences Po clearly distinguish them from other French
university students. Thus, we can establish a scale of elite schools such as Sciences
Po that offer agreements with various prestigious universities around the world—
particularly in the USA—to universities in the provinces which only have
agreements with less prestigious British and European universities. But even more
importantly, this academic scale also intersects with the social stratification of the
recruitment of students; students with parents belonging to upper middle classes
and upper classes living outside of Paris compared to those with parents belonging
to the Parisian bourgeoisie. On this scale, the functions of living abroad may be the
same, but the results differ. As for the social benefits of a degree, the social, cultural,
economic and family capital largely determine what students gain from their
experiences abroad. Students from more modest backgrounds (Ballatore, 2007)
than those of Sciences Po and that use the Erasmus programme can accumulate an
institutionalised form of transnational capital (a degree), but on the other hand, they
do not necessarily have cosmopolitan dispositions fitting with these practices (Réau,
2009). Similarly most often they do not have economic assets abroad at their
disposal. Science Po students’ year abroad fits into a set of international educational
measures (specialised campuses, time spent with many foreign students in Paris,
etc.) and dispositions towards the international passed down through their families
(trips abroad, multilingualism, etc.). How does this experience abroad reinforce
these dispositions and thus participate in enriching students’ transnational capital?
Lifestyles and Socialisation During the Year Abroad

The lifestyle and social experience abroad of Sciences Po students is not
characterised by excessive alcoholic consumption and partying as may be the case
for students from prestigious universities in England (and perhaps students from
schools like Central or ESSEC in France) (Masse, 2002). Rather, it appears that
there is a relative continuity between their lifestyles, their aspirations, their work
and their ‘ordinary’ cultural practices. Studying abroad allows for the accumulation
of transnational capital and personal development, including travelling, living with
students of different nationalities, academic learning, and adaptation to different
lifestyles. Even if their social origins were similar, meeting international students
and brief encounters with various locals require the capacity for more openness
and adaptation than in their own country. These ‘soft’ constraints imposed upon
them are important and encourage their capacity to adapt. The dichotomy between
rhetoric and practice is less obvious when one considers the differences between
living at home and living abroad. These experiences ensure that the members of
upper classes have an ‘international’ outlook. Education through travel is
characterised by the relationship between ‘ordinary’ everyday practices and
‘extraordinary’ practices encountered abroad. The students are well supported by
their host institutions. Additionally, their familiarity with travelling abroad provides
a certain amount of know-how. However, their usual support network cannot be
as easily accessed abroad as at home. They can count on moral and financial
support from their family and friends, but this assistance is mostly ‘help at a
distance’, although some may have relatives and friends to help them in their new
host country. In this sense, they have to rebuild a network of friends locally.
This is largely made up of students of the same nationality or other nationalities,
but not necessarily students of the host country (and to a lesser extent people from
the local population). They constitute a group of international students with
similar social backgrounds (Wagner, 2008). With this group, they gather for
parties, and other leisure activities, which often includes exploring the host
country. It is this temporary community that shapes the values of students abroad.
Links can be maintained following the year abroad and provide networks such as
sources of accommodation for future travels. Therefore, it is likely to be a good
way to increase their international social capital. Support from parents and staff of
the student travel programmes facilitates the lives of student travellers as opposed
to working-class immigrants who have to manage their own administrative tasks
such as visa and health insurance applications, opening bank accounts, and finding
accommodations. However, students still have to do minimal tasks on their own
even if the difficulty of these tasks is determined by the host country: for example,
these tasks are easier in the USA and UK than in China. In their daily lives, they
must communicate in a foreign language and adapt to the lifestyles of international
students and the university system (courses, teaching methods, etc.). A supervised
familiarisation of another culture increases one’s ability to be cosmopolitan.
Overall, this discovery takes place in a protected environment and with students
from similar social backgrounds, which does not mean that students never
encounter significant difficulties. Instead, these perhaps moral or financial barriers
contribute significantly in shaping a student into ‘someone with a worldly
personality’. Likewise, meeting with students of other nationalities (from
comparable social backgrounds) and occasionally with those that differ from them
196 Bertrand Réau
has the effect of cultural openness expected from such an encounter. As in certain
leisure practices (e.g., bourgeois holiday clubs such as Club Med; Réau, 2011),
the punctual attendance of other social groups and other nationalities provides
coping skills useful to all those who aspire to one day occupy leadership positions.
For those who have lived abroad, working knowledge of the elements of daily life
in a foreign country differentiates their experience from that of people who have
lived a sedentary or touristic lifestyle. Presumably, this difference is not so much a
result of cultural knowledge of famous tourist places, but rather on the know-
hows and ‘insider tips’ of those who experience living abroad. In this regard, the
systematic review of the ‘tips’ in the reports of visits by students from Sciences Po
is not trivial: there is a desire to maintain and share a form of practical knowledge
gained through cultural integration practice during their time living abroad which
is very different from the ‘scholarly culture’. Through social trajectories and the
representations of abroad by the students at Sciences Po (Box 11.1), one can
identify the social conditions of the acquisition of transnational capital.
BOX 11.1 Trajectories of students from Sciences Po
MOHAMMED, MOROCCO, 22 YEARS OLD, FOURTH YEAR

AT SCIENCES PO, LATIN AMERICAN STUDIES MAJOR WITH
A MINOR IN FINANCE
His father is a banker and his mother works at Royal Air Morocco. After
completing his studies at the highly selective French school in Casablanca,
Mohammed passed the competitive entrance exam for business schools. He
entered as a second year student at Sciences Po (major in Latin American
studies). The members of his family speak Arabic, French and Spanish every
day during his childhood. His sister attends an elite Spanish school in
Casablanca. Mohammed has travelled extensively with his family and friends
(visiting more than 20 countries, including Morocco), receiving free airline
tickets. Several of his cousins and uncles live in the USA and Canada thus
facilitating travel to these countries. He has a cousin at the Hautes Etudes
Commerciales (the top elite Business School in France). He does not
particularly wish to specialise in finance (despite his finance minor). The
atmosphere of business schools, where “there is only partying and drinking”,
did not suit him and is the reason he changed to Sciences Po. Next year, he
will enrol in a double degree programme at Bocconi University in Milan
majoring in economics. For his year abroad, he has chosen Buenos Aires as
the destination. Argentina, being a very European Latin American country,
represents an excellent place to study. He found an apartment to share with
two other roommates in Buenos Aires. One of them is a drug addict, which
made the first six months difficult for him. At the university, he followed the
advice given to him by students from Sciences Po to take courses that are
not offered at Sciences Po such as psychology and art history. In addition to
having extensive social and administrative support, foreign students like him
also have more free time than local students. With only 12 hours of class per
week instead of 24 at Sciences Po, academic work in Buenos Aires is rather
light for him. He also travels around Argentina. He is able to easily arrange
transportation and accommodation during his journey. He has never used
travel agency services. The funding of his travels is not a problem. The cost
of living in Buenos Aires is much less than in France, which allows him to visit
the South American continent. In addition, he meets other students from
Sciences Po in Brazil. His choice of Latin America is not part of a professional
plan. It leaves all the doors open, figuratively speaking. He knows he can
always work in the Moroccan Ministry of Foreign Affairs if he wishes to do so,
after Sciences Po. He is planning to take up another Masters in economic
anthropology: he wants to study economic development in different cultural
areas. He has developed a cosmopolitan outlook and hopes to absorb the
elements of various cultures during his career.
CAMILLE, 22 YEARS OLD, FOURTH YEAR AT SCIENCES PO,

MAJOR IN FINANCE
With a father who is a project manager/business manager at France Télécom
and a mother who is a primary school teacher, she does not benefit from the
international network of some of the other students from more privileged
backgrounds. She thus aspires all the more to upward mobility and to a
symbolic recognition of her status. After completing a Baccalauréat
Scientifique in a Parisian suburb and a year at a private business preparatory
school, Camille entered Sciences Po as a second year student. Professionally,
she hesitates between finance and consulting. During her year abroad, she
chose to go to the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia (USA) (Wharton,
“the best undergraduate business school”), where she discovered finance.
She also took language and theology classes. All of her choices concern
schools in the USA. Her mother is Mauritian. They have therefore been to the
Republic of Mauritius and Reunion Island. They have also travelled to
Germany, Spain, Great Britain and France. They have also been to Mexico
during an all-inclusive trip (flight + hotel). They do not do organised tours.
She has been to Italy and Spain with her boyfriend. She has also gone to
Great Britain twice and the USA once to study English. During her stay in the
USA, she travelled around, meeting up with students from Sciences Po in
198 Bertrand Réau
New York and California as well as Montreal, Canada. She took out a loan to
pay the 42,000 dollars in school fees. Her mother has travelled a lot. She has
family in Australia and in South Africa that she has never seen.
ANNE, 22 YEARS OLD, FOURTH YEAR AT SCIENCES PO,

JOURNALISM MAJOR
After a Baccalauréat in economics at Henri IV, Anne passed the competitive
Sciences Po entry exam as early as her second year and she appreciates
having more classes in the social sciences. Passionate about cinema, for her
year abroad she looks for a structure that corresponds to her artistic
ambitions. First she thinks about Prague, India and Australia. Eventually she
discovers the system of American liberal arts colleges, which grant much
importance to the personal development of each student within structures
of modest size. As a result, she only mentions liberal arts colleges in her
choices: she does not get her first choice. Assigned to Oberlin College in
Ohio, she has classes in “cinema studies” and finds the “social and cultural”
diversity that she was looking for in this type of establishment. She went to
Venezuela when she was six years old. Otherwise, every year with her family
she travelled for two weeks with the tour operator Terres d’aventure. Her
father is a doctor, professor and researcher at the Université Paris V. Her
mother worked in the marketing department at Hachette. She currently
works for an association for the protection of children. One of her brothers
went to the Université de Dauphine and then Sciences Po. He lives in Peru.
Her other brother continued his studies at an American university in Illinois
after going to Polytechnique. After having worked in Chicago he wishes to
return to France. With Terres d’aventure they went backpacking in several
countries. For her part, Anne has travelled alone in Greece, Germany,
Slovakia and Great Britain. She goes to Germany every year to see a pen pal
who lives near Cologne. In Greece, she went to babysit for a family that she
met with her parents. She has also participated in an international Habitat
for Humanity type programme. The first two months of her year in the USA
were a little difficult emotionally. She was mostly with the other
“international” students. She joined a vegetarian co-op (80 students who
organise daily lunches and dinners together). Gradually she began to attend
parties that take place off-campus in students’ houses. She made a film for a
microcredit fund in Nicaragua. Five students were selected for this project
for a three-week trip: a week of travel, a week of work for the micro-credit
organisation (“a lot of responsibility”), a week with a family.
Unlike upwardly mobile middle-class students or fractions of classes less
endowed with capital, these students accumulate a high volume of
economic, cultural, social, and more or less transnational capital. Each

benefits from regular and varied previous tourist experiences, but also from
club activities and/or professional activities abroad; they speak several
languages, most often learned in a multilingual familial context and
sometimes have lived abroad. These elements participate in the construction
of a cosmopolitan habitus through the internalisation of dispositions towards
mobility, of a familiarity with the world. In this context, the year abroad
follows in the steps of previous practices. It is the length of the experience
and its modalities/methods that contribute to reinforcing these cosmopolitan
dispositions. The Sciences Po degree represents an institutionalised form of
transnational capital. Finally, certain interviews mention the possession of
economic assets abroad, which constitutes the objectivised form of this
capital. The three types of transnational capital are present among these
students. Nevertheless, we observe variations depending upon gender and
the class to which their parents belong. Thus, the young women had
experiences in community-based organisations and as baby-sitters abroad,
while the man worked in companies. Likewise, Camille’s professional
aspirations and international attributes differ from those of Mohammed. The
former, better endowed with economic capital than cultural capital, invested
in a costly American education that she hopes to make profitable in the
world of finance and consulting. As for Mohammed, he gives himself the
time to think about his professional future and sees himself continuing his
studies in anthropology. One also finds variations in the uses of the
international experiences depending on the original endowments of capital,
which determine the modalities of acquisition of institutionalised,
incorporated and objectivised forms of transnational capital.
Conclusion
Without being assured of a certain set of results, the upper classes practised the
common adage: “Travel broadens the mind.” But travel alone is not enough. The
travel environment determines the end result, which is to gain some specific
abilities. The acquisition of these abilities is subject to a certain set of conditions.
Unlike working-class immigration, which embodies “the illusion of a temporary
stay” (Sayad, 1999) the upper-class travellers have the assurance of return to their
home country: financial and social class of the family is a prerequisite for going
abroad. Those who travel for educational purposes are in a position of ‘double
presence’; they are supported and waited for at home, but simultaneously hosted
and supervised abroad. They are never abandoned, are able to find familiar people
and landmarks on their journey and, most importantly, have the insurance to
return home. Thus they have nothing to lose; if the journey fails they can always
200 Bertrand Réau
return home. Without the pressure to succeed, they are more open to learning,
which makes it easier for them to adapt to other cultural contexts (and to some
extent other social contexts). Thus, social backgrounds are central in explaining
what people can gain from living abroad. The volume and the structure of the
initial capital to a great extent determine the possibility of transforming international
attributes into transnational capital: this clearly differentiates the students from
Sciences Po from the Erasmus students. The transnational capital represents rather
a multiplier of existing economic and social capital (Wagner, 2008).
Acknowledgement
I would like to thank Eileen Chen and Madeline Bedecarre for editing this text.
Notes
1 For a summary of these notions, see Wagner and Réau (2015).
2 All quotations and data in the following two paragraphs come from Roche (2003, pp.
569–734). 
3 Norbert Elias advanced the idea that the decline of physical violence and the change
of sensitivity to violence were partially responsible for the emergence of these pacified
practices of distinction. It was no longer important to show one’s physical strength,
but rather one’s cultured or civilised side and the social prestige associated with travel
and high-society conversations (Elias, 1976; Dunning & Elias, 1986).
4 In France, a system of ‘Grandes écoles’ exists alongside universities. These ‘Grandes
écoles’ (Sciences Po-Paris, Polytechnique, ENA, HEC, etc.) educate children
predominately from the upper classes and therefore participate in the social
reproduction of positions of power. Sciences Po represents, in this sense, a school of
power, which produces many political leaders (like François Hollande), economic
leaders and senior civil servants. See Bourdieu (1996).
5 For instance, Berkeley (USA), Cambridge (UK), Columbia (USA), Freie Universität
Berlin (Germany), Fudan (China), Keio (Japan), London School of Economics (UK).
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12
SCHOOLS AND FAMILIES
School Choice and Formation of Elites
in Present-Day Argentina
Sandra Ziegler
Introduction
Examining the relationship between education and elites is a relatively new
research area in Argentina. In the sociology of education this issue has become
widespread and is linked to an interest in understanding how the more relevant
groups in society are comprised (Howard & Gaztambide-Fernández, 2010; Khan,
2011; Kenway, Fahey & Koh, 2013; Maxwell & Aggleton, 2013 and others).
Existing literature looks to explain the dynamics of inequality and the prevalence
of poverty by focusing on disadvantaged groups; however, studies lack an
approach centred on the groups that concentrate conditions of privilege. We
agree with Howard and Gaztambide-Fernández (2010, p. 1) when they argue
that “the lack of attention to privileged groups is not simply a gap in the existing
research but a conceptual link missing in our understanding of inequality”.
The persistence of inequality carries a distinct dimension in present-day
Argentina. In contemporary Argentina, a social order restructuration is
characterised by two important transformations: a period marked by new capital
accumulation and concentration, and changes in integration and exclusion
patterns. Such transformations lead to a rise in inequality characterised by high
poverty and marginalisation rates. In fact, studies conducted suggest that a
widening of the social gap is due to a shift away from a social composition with
higher integration and cohesion levels (Svampa, 2005, 2001; Kessler, 2002;
among others). This phenomenon, characterised as ‘social fragmentation’, drives
our inquiry into how such dynamics manifest in the educational field. I argue that
the structural changes modifying the social landscape of our country since the
1990s have also found their expression in the educational arena. Without
necessarily establishing a direct relationship between both spheres, I believe that
the educational field has undergone unprecedented transformations. Indeed,

several studies reveal connections between social fragmentation phenomena and
differentiation processes shaping educational institutions (Tiramonti, 2004;
Kessler, 2002, 2014; Veleda, 2012; Tiramonti & Ziegler, 2008).
In Argentina, studies examining poverty conditions and their impact on the
educational system emerged to explain these complex processes of impoverishment
and social polarisation. In this context devoting resources to examining the
education of the most privileged and advantageous groups would seem
unjustifiable. However, from my point of view, inquiring into elite schooling is
necessary for understanding the complexities of an interdependent society. Tilly
(2000) highlights that inequality is a relational process; thus, in order to understand
inequality in today’s educational system it is fundamental to examine the dynamics
of processes that tend to concentrate both advantageous and disadvantageous
conditions. This follows Stich and Colyar (2013), who adopted a relational
thinking model—as formulated by Bourdieu—and represents an approach that
potentially enriches class and elite studies.
This chapter discusses the school selection process in Argentina, a country in
which no institutionalised mechanisms of elite school selection exist, as opposed
to other countries such as France or Brazil (Tiramonti & Ziegler, 2008; Ziegler
& Gessaghi, 2012; Heredia, 2012). This investigation examines the role that
school choice plays in guaranteeing socialisation with elite peers and, above all,
acquiring the social and cultural capital necessary to informally compete for
prestigious and powerful positions. Thus, one objective of this chapter is to
understand how individuals who seek to have their children socialised in schools
aimed at training youths to occupy the highest social, cultural, and/or economic
positions inform themselves. Additionally, examined throughout is the role
schooling plays for these groups, the general expectations that families hold
concerning school, and finally, their specific expectations regarding future power
positions.
This chapter presents results from a study conducted in secondary schools1
located in Buenos Aires City and the northern part of the Conurbano Bonaerense,
a suburban area surrounding Buenos Aires City.2 Both are located in Buenos
Aires, the largest province in the country with respect to both territory and
population. The latter is an urban area with a high concentration of high-income
individuals. The Conurbano Bonaerense is densely populated, housing more
than 60% of Buenos Aires Province’s inhabitants. According to the 2010 national
census this region is home to nearly 25% of the national population and 24.6% of
the student population. On the other hand, Buenos Aires City is one of the most
affluent cities nationally. Although it holds only 7.2% of the total population, this
is the city where political, cultural and economic power concentrate. Compared
to Buenos Aires City, only 6.4% of the total national student population attends
school here.
204 Sandra Ziegler
Furthermore, in Argentina education for the elite is offered primarily at private

institutions. If we analyse students attending private schools relative to the total
school population, the highest rates of privatisation are found in the most affluent
and central conglomerates. During the late 2000s, the proportion of students
attending private schools reached 48% in Buenos Aires City, and 30.5% in Buenos
Aires Province, as opposed to a national average of 25%. In Buenos Aires
Province, privatisation levels were higher in the more affluent municipalities. For
example, Vicente López (62%) and San Isidro (58%) are the municipalities in
Buenos Aires Province with the highest percentage of Basic Education (1st
through 9th grade) students attending private institutions (Veleda, 2012). In
addition to geographic concentration, the socio-economic composition of private
enrolment leads to increased association with affluent groups. In 2011, 57% of
secondary students pertaining to households in the top quintile of the Metropolitan
Area (Buenos Aires City and suburban areas) attended private schools.3 Public
free secondary education oriented towards elite formation is provided only by a
small group of schools that form part of a university.
In summary, in Argentina, elite formation at the secondary educational level
tends to be concentrated in the most affluent urban areas, largely in private schools.
Access to these schools is not granted initially on the basis of student academic
competence. Rather, families’ economic possibilities and a legitimisation criteria
based on the schools they attended, the surnames of the families, the job positions
and a personal interview (with the adults) are deciding factors. In the case of
public university affiliated secondary schools oriented towards elite formation,
access is granted according to a meritocratic criterion whereby applicants sit a
difficult admission exam. These schools, however, do not charge fees.
This chapter integrates results from a qualitative study conducted in three
secondary schools aimed at elite formation, located in the City and the Province
of Buenos Aires. The investigation includes findings from in-depth interviews
with three headmasters, 20 parents and 24 students, along with observations at
relevant schools, and an analysis of secondary documents. Demographic
information regarding students’ families was collected during interviews and in
the schools. These data made it possible to analyse school selection and examine
this relationship with the groups that constitute the local elite.
The schools define themselves as “traditional” institutions “of academic
excellence”. The schools examined in this chapter include two private schools: one
religious and the other secular. A public school was also selected because of its
admission selection procedures and history of educating national leaders. This
attests to its character as an institution that has formed elite groups, both political
and intellectual. This study examines institutions explicitly designed to train their
students to occupy powerful and privileged positions. Privileged positions are those
that offer membership in economically, socially, and culturally advantaged groups.
This chapter discusses the reasons informing parents’ decisions to choose a particular
school, examining the objectives motivating those families to make such choices.
Families and Traditions Underpinning School Choice

Scholars examining school choice have incorporated various approaches, in
Argentina and in other countries. Some studies driven by policy debates aimed at
“free educational choice” have produced literature that challenges the foundations
of the alleged free rational choice: among them, important contributions from
England (Whitty, Power & Halpin, 1998; Ball, 2003; Crozier et al., 2008), the
USA (Weis, Cipollone & Jenkins, 2014), Australia (Windle, 2009), and France
(van Zantén, 2009). Several commonalities are present in these studies, including
an explanation of the distinct rationalities that converge when actors choose a
school, differing interests across social classes and subclasses, and the relationship
between making choices with the political, urban, and historical context where
they are made. Additionally, these studies debate the assumption that choices take
place independently from historical and social conditions, thus it is not the
individual manifestation of human attributes that account for the dynamics
present in the ‘school market’ sphere.
A number of studies conducted in recent years reveal the active role played by
upper-middle- and upper-class groups regarding the school selection process. Jay
(2002) in Switzerland, Aguiar (2012) in Belo Horizonte, Brazil, and Waters (2007)
and Kenway et al. (2013) examined families in Hong Kong who send their children
to Canada and the UK. This list of studies is not exhaustive; it simply illustrates a
societal pattern that goes beyond national borders and reveals the influence that the
selective behaviour of families has in shaping educational systems.
Braslavsky (1985) was the first researcher to analyse school choice. This
research provided an empirical account of socio-economic segregation processes
in the educational system, and their connection to educational circuits merging
with and becoming based on a student’s social background. Stemming from these
initial findings, scholars in the early 2000s introduced a series of studies focused
on school choice from a variety of perspectives. Del Cueto (2007), Veleda (2012),
Ziegler (2004), and Tiramonti and Ziegler (2008) examined the way in which
families play an active role in establishing school segregation by selecting or
avoiding certain institutions. Thus, schools contribute to the creation of segregated
spaces, and assume a significant role in defining the population they choose to
serve.
In the current study, findings from parent interviews suggest that one of the
explicit factors influencing them to choose an institution is the guarantee of
academic excellence, prestige and a ‘traditional education’. In these cases,
education works as a strategy for strengthening newly rising social groups or by
groups that already hold advantageous positions. In terms of elite social mobility
(Pareto, 1967), education is a strategy used to maintain gained positions or to
compete for new, advantageous positions. Restricting access to certain institutions
provides a means by which elites are able to maintain or gain access to new power
positions. Clearly, it is not only educational institutions that generate these
206 Sandra Ziegler
conditions, but also the complex interaction of families and schools that reinforce
the privileged situation held by certain social groups.
This study demonstrates that the socialising effects facilitated by these schools
are based on the student immersion in an institutional structure whereby they
experience the ideological imperative of the school rather intensively. This
finding resonates with other international studies (Kahn, 2011; Goodson,
Cookson & Persell, 2000). Students who attend elite schools seek immersion into
a milieu that exhibits a degree of ‘social similarity’ (Weber, 1984). According to
Weber, educational and cultural experiences may favour (apart from class
position) the creation of a sense of belonging to a status group, whereby students
only mix with their own kind. Socialisation among similar individuals results
from these groups choosing an educational universe equivalent to their family
universe. In choosing the most exclusive schools, actors are guaranteed a certain
level of homogeneity (Pinçon & Pinçon-Charlot, 2002). Ball (2003) points to a
similar phenomenon in England where social enclosure characterised the school
choice of middle-high grades schools. Developing Parkin’s work (1974), Ball
explains that social closure is the way in which social collectives maximise benefits
by restricting access to resources and opportunities to a limited circle.
A recurring aspect in family choices is the adherence to traditions as a
foundation for school selections. It is thus important to focus on the role that
traditions play among families that tend to choose elite schools in my study.
According to Giddens (2001), tradition does not have ancient origins. It is a
creation of European Modernity dating back 200 years. Its linguistic roots are
derived from the Latin term tradere, meaning to transmit or hand something
down to somebody for safekeeping. Giddens acknowledges that traditions play a
relevant role in maintaining social order in all societies; however, he cautions that
more conservative philosophies conceive and associate tradition with accumulated
wisdom, thus limiting the possibilities for transformation. In such contexts,
tradition defines a truth and a framework for action that cannot be challenged.
The supremacy of tradition guarantees that the strategies that were successful
in consolidating elites will be maintained. Minor transformations aside, it would
seem that embracing the familiar makes sense when attempting to attain or
maintain the most advantageous positions. Preserving traditions is a valued asset
as it helps maintain the status quo. In deeply uncertain contexts characterised by
continual transformation, attachment to the familiar seems to be the path by
which most local elites tread. Faced with the perception that rules are vulnerable
and institutions are weak in terms of supporting authority vis-à-vis the new
generations, families and schools double their stakes by offering a strong
socialisation framework, resort to the legacy of traditions, and resist
deinstitutionalisation processes (Dubet, 2006).
Nevertheless, we argue that when families discuss tradition they allude to
distinct aspects, thus reflecting disparities within these groups. Even though it is
not possible to assert emphatically that these educational institutions target
different sections of local elites,4 we note that families choosing particular schools
exhibit different orientations and group memberships within the social, cultural,
and economic space in question. In the case of private schools, there is a mutual
reinforcing choice represented by a “two-way selection” mechanism between
schools and families (Martínez, Villa & Seoane, 2009. Thus, elite schools exhibit
preferences to the families they tend to target, and families restrict their choices
to a very limited range of institutions. This dynamic leads to the conclusion that
even though all the schools share the same aspiration to form elites, not all elite
students could attend the elite school of their choice. Hence, it is the traits that
distinguish each institution which clearly map the position it holds within the
privileged groups’ formation.
Tradition Based on Religious Education

In the first case a group of parents selected an institution in downtown Buenos
Aires City, a private school that typically emphasises both academic and religious
education. Tradition is linked to the school’s prestige and history, as well as to the
imprint it has left on many generations of students. A noteworthy number of
enrolled students are the children and grandchildren of ex-alumni.
According to the parents I interviewed, this school’s teaching system is
rigorous, demanding and emphasises discipline. Its rhetoric stresses the importance
of Catholic doctrine in education while the ultimate goal is to prepare students to
excel in all aspects of university life.
Parental attraction to this institution is based on the desire for an academic
education that holds students in a controlled environment where values are
upheld. In contrast to families that choose other institutions, it is not the value of
knowledge in itself that is prioritised here. Gaining access to knowledge is simply
utilitarian, as it is expected to help perform well at the university. Parents are
attracted to this institution’s academic nature because it imposes upon students
the dedication to study, thus guaranteeing that children experience disciplinary
patterns. Parents seek an institution with strong control of their children as a way
to secure their socialisation in the patterns valued by these families. The following
interview excerpt, for example, encapsulates the priority parents placed on values:
Well, as I have already told you, in my opinion, the most relevant aspect of
this school is the education it offers as regards values. It is also important
that their values be the same as mine, and well, I believe that my choice of
a school is based fundamentally on that.
(father: notary; mother: housewife,
non-university tertiary education complete)
Faced with potential deinstitutionalisation processes, these families expect that a

rigorous system will effectively control their children’s behaviour and, essentially,
208 Sandra Ziegler
ingrain a link between studying and discipline in their children. According to

parents, the daily routine in this institution is highly demanding and characterised
by discipline. Owing to significant transformations in contemporary society,
these families attempt to safeguard family and religious traditions and customs in
order to guarantee their survival in an evolving world.
The parents in the sample included freelance professionals, business owners,
families linked to agricultural activities, as well as to military and church hierarchies.
It is common to see children as “heirs” of the economic and professional activities
of male parents. The personal success they wish for their children’s future is linked
to a university career, which is necessary for occupying senior positions and to
maintain the position of their birth family. Most mothers are housewives who have
limited their work activities to the home even though many of them have a
university education. Typically, these are large families in which mothers play a
prominent role in controlling their children’s activities and socialisation networks.
Even though this is a part-time institution,5 in contrast to other schools, its
academic curriculum requires students to dedicate themselves nearly full time.
Mothers of students explicitly mention the fact that they are committed to keeping
informed about and accompanying the activities conducted by their children after
school hours. Control and socialisation are shared by the school and families;
mothers are a key component in the reproduction of certain patterns of socialisation,
watching over the maintenance of a controlled environment. Additionally, this
group tends to seek a social similarity that will guarantee the socialisation of its
members among familiar individuals. The following interview excerpt speaks of
the tightly exclusive knitted community that families are connected to:
Interviewer: What purpose serves the school where you send your children,
and what purpose do you think it should serve?
Mother: I think it allows them to move in the same environment which
they are used to, I don’t know ... to have friends whose parents I know. To
give me the possibility of knowing who they are. Within a sector of society,
everybody knows everybody. He has got a lot of schoolmates whose dads
are friends of mine or whose moms I have known since I was a kid, then
you know what circles he frequents.
(father: notary public; mother: housewife,
secondary education complete)
Finally, these families chose the school from a restricted list and they do not
consider non-religious schools as options for them. To conclude, it is an
environment whose central aspect is a religious disciplinary model and an
exclusive condition connected to school selection. This school is not chosen
because of their academic level but the moral education that it provides (Gessaghi
& Méndez, 2015).
Tradition: Between a Prestige Acquired in the Past and

Modernisation
In the second case parents chose a school located in the northern area of the
Conurbano Bonaerense. This institution is rooted in the Anglo-Saxon immigrant
tradition and is characterised by its excellent bilingual education. Tuition fees are
relatively high compared to other Argentine private secondary schools.6 Its
student body includes groups that are historically linked to the institution, as well
as institution “newcomers”. Both parents tend to hold university degrees or
certificates, and devote themselves to a range of professional activities (freelance
professionals, senior government officers, businesspeople, entertainers).
This is a renowned school whose mission is to provide a high-quality bilingual
education with an international orientation. Parents discussed the school’s high
academic standards and attributed the challenges the students face to strict international
exams regulations. The school’s curriculum includes two mandatory tracks, including
the Argentine national curriculum and the International Baccalaureate Diploma.7
Parents emphasise that their children are rather privileged given their opportunity to
attend this school. They frequently urge their sons and daughters to maximise the
experience by “taking advantage of” their passage through the school.
I always tell my children, not only because of the money we pay to send
them here, but I really believe that they enjoy the privilege of attending
this school, and that’s why I tell them: learn everything, take advantage of
everything, because you don’t know if maybe it will serve you in the
future. My son is now taking art classes. I love it because, maybe, through
these classes he will get to know if he wants to do something related to art
... because when you are 13, 14 years old, you don’t know what your
vocation is, so, the more varied the offerings of the school, the more able
the kids will be not to make mistakes when choosing.
(mother: lawyer; father: Degree in business administration)
This institution’s educational offering combines an appeal to old traditions with

modern updates that allow it to adapt to the demands of internationalised
competitive societies. The school mixes age-old traditions with curriculum and
organisational changes that are directly linked to new social demands. The
institutional adaptations developed are grounded in the desire to provide an
education that gives students an opportunity to acquire the abilities necessary to
be successful in a globalised society (Resnik, 2008).
Families expect the school to prepare students to not only meet, but also
surpass international standards. These families include professionals associated
with the most dynamic sectors in the economy, including a significant number of
mothers who also work full time in commercial organisations or as independent
professionals. Parents in the sample include senior executives of both large and
210 Sandra Ziegler
small corporations, as well as business owners. Parents chose this school during
the early stages of their children’s lives. Additionally, friends and/or family
members also tend to send their children here. An additional characteristic is that
almost all families live in close proximity to the school, a situation that leads
students to socialise in geographically segregated environments, resulting in
reproduction strategies marked by social homogeneity.
These families value the fact that this is a “full-time” school whereby they can
delegate all their children’s socialisation and control.
This school has one particular trait, a kid that is devoted to school does not
have time to do anything else, because the school occupies him seven days
a week, that is, they have to devote all their time to school. My daughter
plays two sports, she is on the track and field team, she sings in the school
chorus, she is involved in community service. She devotes her Saturdays or
Sundays to many of these activities.
(father: agronomical engineer; mother: incomplete
university education, Political Science)
Such strong sense of belonging facilitates social capital acquisition, and affords
status through apparent elitist consumption (i.e., frequenting high-class places
and adhering to the group’s standards of behaviour (practising exclusive sports,
travelling abroad). Studying in this school places these elite groups in a space that
need not be won through academic merit or corroborated through demanding
entrance examinations.
Unlike the previous group, this school combines the socialisation process
present in the most traditional English schools with a modernised curriculum
oriented to critical thinking, self-reflection, multiculturalism, self-learning, and
flexibility to achieve a “successful” insertion in globalised competitive societies.
Tradition Underpinned by Public Education

In the third case a group of parents chose a public secondary school founded in
the 19th century and belonging to a university. Located in Buenos Aires City,
this school boasts a long history of educating national leaders and intellectuals.
Through a challenging and rigorous admission exam this institution implements
a highly selective process that guarantees outstanding intellectual performance.
Thus, the school enrols talented students capable of excelling in spite of a highly
demanding curriculum.
Although this is not a bilingual school, its curriculum exhibits several traits
shared by the other schools examined. First, it offers a diverse array of
extracurricular activities resulting in full-time students. The curriculum is
designed to deliver a humanist education combining languages, humanities and
sciences and strongly linked to the traditional preparation of intellectual elites.
The interviewed families stress that their choice is based on the value they
ascribe to public education. They recognise that their children are privileged to
have the possibility to attend this school. This sample included male and female
parents that are professionals and employees working in different economic
sectors. In contrast to the families included in the two previous groups, these
parents’ economic and social backgrounds are more varied while the
neighbourhoods where families reside are more dispersed relative to the school’s
location. Given the school’s highly selective entrance examination, most families
stress that passing the exam implied hard, arduous work for their children.
My daughter attends this school following a suggestion of mine. She has

always been very smart, in primary school she stood out as a brilliant
student, then, well, she took the entrance examination and finally passed it.
That year implied a great effort for all of us, for her and for the rest of the
family. She saw her friends enjoying their free time, and she could do
nothing but study and study to pass the exams. Being just 12, it was a lot of
pressure on her.
(mother: lawyer and sworn translator [French]; father: pharmaceutical
sales representative, complete secondary education)
Unlike the students in the previous groups whose entire schooling is in the
private sector, this school comprises youths who attended public primary schools,
and have now chosen this high school. There is a strong public school rhetoric.
One important aspect of this case is that the interviewed parents whose children
attended primary public schools have a family educational background with
recent access to higher education and more exclusive institutions (i.e., parents
had access to secondary and higher education). However, their children are the
first generation to attend this particular elite school. Results from questions
probing educational paths suggest that the educational level attained by previous
generations is lower (as opposed to the other schools included in our sample), and
that grandparents held lower status positions such as business, factory, and small
enterprise employees. Even though parents maintain that the families associated
with the school are basically from the upper-middle and upper classes, the family
educational paths indicate the presence of middle-class groups that pursued higher
education levels as a means to achieve upward social mobility. Despite this
school’s explicit intention to form elite groups, its enrolment is more
heterogeneous with regard to geographical, social and economic backgrounds
than that of its private counterparts. The common trait of all students is their
possession of, or their potential to access cultural capital; parents send their
students to this school due to its promise to provide the latter.
This school exhibits characteristics that distinguish it from the two previous
groups. Parents delegate all aspects of socialisation and education to the school,
while the institution restricts families from interfering in any school decisions or
212 Sandra Ziegler
activities. The distance established between families and the school forces these
youth to engage in a more independent and self-controlled social life at an earlier
stage. In turn, this university school, with a selective academic recruitment system
and school socialisation processes, targets students that have already demonstrated
an ability to work in a meritocratic milieu.
Conclusions
This study demonstrates the nuances of a school selection process whereby
families choose a private or a public school with its own characteristic patterns.
The differences between individuals attending private and public schools are
similar to the distances between institutions that aim to deliver elite education.
Among the families that choose private schools there is a stronger orientation
towards homogeneity. Such similarity is achieved through not only spatial but
also social segregation. For these families the pursuit of social closure8 guarantees
similarity and ensures reproduction according to group norms and ideals. The
selectivity and social homogeneity present in these schools provides families the
ideal environment for socialisation and makes it possible to adjust school principles
based on families’ idiosyncrasies. These groups choose schools that provide a
resource allowing them to consolidate positions of privilege and guarantee
membership in certain social groups in which the scholastic options place
individuals in social spaces that form part of a ‘lifestyle’. Thus, membership in a
private educational sphere oriented towards elites is explained by the families’
economic possibilities, which in turn grant them access to such places. In this
case, the privileged groups do not prioritise their decision to provide their
children with quality ‘scholastic knowledge’ via a meritocratic system.
In contrast, the families that chose a public elite school opted for a school that
selects students based on a meritocratic system that demands high academic skills
and knowledge. This school receives students from more diverse social
backgrounds and gaining access to this prestigious institution represents a
crowning moment for upper-middle-class groups competing for educational
resources. Subsequently, the social position of a family is enhanced upon a child’s
entrance. In comparison to the other elite families, in these cases the ‘newcomers’
deploy usurpatory strategies (van Zanten, 2003) in connection with their children’s
access to schooling. One important finding to highlight is the tendency for
upper-middle-class groups to isolate themselves in the more exclusive university
schools instead of their traditional inclination to control the public education
system.
The end result of these school selection dynamics is the increase of educational
fragmentation, particularly in urban areas where institutional variation is on the
rise. The opportunity to attend schools with distinct characteristics diversifies
families’ aspirations while placing elite members in environments that guarantee
separation from lower social classes and social interaction with elite peers.
Scholars have examined school choice in several national contexts; however,

the school selection process manifests distinctly in Argentina. No formal,
institutionalised, elite selection patterns are evident as the institutional mechanisms
and career paths leading to such positions tend to be heterogeneous.
This chapter identifies two co-existing possibilities leading to elite education
choice in Argentina. The first is a free public high school based on a meritocratic
system and administered by a university. The second are expensive private schools
based on the possession of economic resources and located in geographically
segregated areas, where the youth’s education is increasingly dependent upon the
wealth and wishes of parents, rather than the ability and efforts ruled by a
meritocratic system.
Gessaghi and Méndez (2015, p. 52) argue that “the study of different elite
fractions highlights the work performed by educational institutions not only to
reproduce elites but also to produce them. The way in which the different schools
described interact with the individuals (and families) that attend them, documents
the diversity of the legitimisation criteria for access to elite positions in
contemporary societies.”
Analysing school choice processes in Argentina reveals what is at stake when
opting for an educational institution in a society where access to, and maintenance
and legitimation of elite positions are not institutionalised. Thus, families must
develop active strategies in order to arrive at and maintain elite positions. Such
lack of formality plus the competition to access power and privilege positions
explains why families invest in schools according to their preferences, and socio-
cultural and economic profiles. They choose schools based on their aspirations, as
well as the strategies and opportunities they believe will grant their children
advantaged positions. These choices make it possible to acquire social capital and
maintain a certain lifestyle while building elite selection mechanisms into a social
context where such patterns are vague and less institutionalised and subjects have
to combine symbolic and material resources in order to gain access to the elite
world.
Acknowledgements
The author thanks two anonymous reviewers for their comments on an early
version of this chapter.
Notes
1 Secondary schools in Argentina comprise 13- to 17-year-old students.
2 This study was conducted at FLACSO Argentina, as part of the Research Project “La
nueva configuración de la discriminación educativa en la Argentina”, directed by
Guillermina Tiramonti.
214 Sandra Ziegler
3 Source: Created by author based on data extracted from the Permanent Household
Survey, 2011, INDECs. The fifth quintile is the fifth part of the population that
concentrates the highest incomes.
4 For such an assertion, it would be necessary to conduct a study tracking schooling
processes of individuals who already occupy privileged positions, examining different
sections of the elites.
5 Students attend school five hours per day.
6 When we conducted our fieldwork, monthly tuition fees were approximately
US$1,000.
7 The International Baccalaureate is an international educational programme managed
by an organisation (IBO) based in Geneva that coordinates educational programmes at
the international level.
8 Ball (2003) offers a detailed treatment of the social closure that English middle classes
tend to seek through their school choices. The author builds on F. Parkin’s work to
discuss the category of “social closure” more in-depth.
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13
THE ECONOMY OF ELITENESS
Consuming Educational Advantage
Howard Prosser
Haven’t we arrived full circle from the myth of the ‘rags to riches’, the shoeshine boy
who turns millionaire just by a stroke of luck combined with rather a lot of gumption,
to a ‘new and improved’ version of the same myth, though with the shoeshining
replaced by message kneading? Somewhere along that circular move the promise to
level up chances by universal, life-enhancing education has been lost …
Zygmunt Bauman (2012, pp. 38–39)
Introduction
The growing scholarly interest in elites continually reposes a question: what do
we mean by elite? When talking about education, the term elite’s elasticity
permits a useful confusion. Does elite point to the quality of the education? Or
does elite indicate the social position of those receiving the education? In this
chapter I unpack some of the issues that lead to such confusion by suggesting that
elite schools and their clientele are well served by this indeterminate descriptor.
The main reason for such indeterminacy is that what is being spoken of, or not
spoken of directly, is class. Within the rhetoric of meritocratic liberalism talking
about class differences has become inappropriate (which in itself is a class issue).
This improper discussion remains the case when it comes to comparing schools,
which is exactly what happens when one school is deemed elite. Calling a school
elite is always already a relational or comparative analysis. But a further
complication is added when the schools themselves disavow the term elite and
replace it with other signifiers like excellence or prestigious (Draelants & Darchy-
Koechlin, 2011). Such alternatives assuage the term elite’s classed asperities.
But there’s little getting away from the fact that high-end institutions that offer
globally reputed curricula to the wealthy and powerful are called elite schools.
218 Howard Prosser
Indeed, calling a school elite is class formation in motion. Class is a process that is
continually developing through linguistic and material circumstances. Much like
Bauman’s shoeshine analogy, elite education has a well-kneaded message that
disguises its overwhelmingly classed nature. This message has been softened to a
state where such schools do not see themselves as elite and are thus somehow
easily accessed or comparable to other schools that cater to different social classes.
As a result, elite is a term that obliquely serves class formation. Class should not
be regarded as a ‘thing’ but a relationship that changes over time.
Here I argue that the contemporary celebration of elite schools is integral to a
larger ‘economy of eliteness’ that, in turn, contributes to the ongoing process of
class formation. The chapter begins by indicating how class analysis today can
find use in a term like elite if it keeps a sense of class being a historical process.
This means that scholars studying elites today should be aware of how previous
discussion of class can inform their understanding of elites, especially under
neoliberal conditions. One way of doing this is by recognising how a syncretic
class analysis can cope with the complex economic and cultural factors that
influence class formation. From this synthesis, it becomes clear that studying elites
is specifically concerned with the ongoing nature of social inequality via the
concentration of wealth and power.
As such, I go on to suggest that the economy of eliteness produces an ‘elite
imaginary’ that is now a valuable and exchangeable social currency mobilised in
favour of specific class interests. To illustrate this economy I position it in a
composite analytical frame with some examples taken from my fieldwork in an
elite school in Argentina. Elite schools like this one, the Caledonian School, play
a crucial role in representing and reproducing eliteness in both education and
society. A school’s association with a particular group assists in the institution
being seen as elite, while membership of this group is assisted by attendance at the
school. A consumer cycle, a virtuous circle, is created. Consequently, the image
of eliteness is being made through the consumption of elite education as a
commodity.
I end the chapter by suggesting the study of eliteness also has a responsibility
to undo such inequality through considered class analysis. Since the economy of
eliteness works to assist such concentration, through its cunning quest for greater
market value where ever it lays, scholars of elite education should be wary of
unwittingly inflating eliteness by celebrating the worth of the schools studied.
The ‘economy of eliteness’ deserves to be exposed as part of a process that
produces class power because social and educational advantage is purchasable at a
premium. This situation has ramifications for other schools and universities
because it mobilises an elite imaginary that is symptomatic of neoliberal times.
Schooling is now about emulating the elite institutions of the privileged with
little mind to how such privilege was acquired or how, and by whom, such
institutions are defined as elite. In other words, an economy of eliteness reinforces
a way of thinking about how education is bound to class.
Consuming Educational Advantage 219
Elite Class Analysis

Elite has become a common term of everyday use. The Anglophone media is rife
with the term, especially in the wake of the 2008 economic crash, to describe
society’s wealthy and powerful. The fascination with elites—as evidenced in
celebrity culture of all stripes—replicates previous awe at the aristocracy or
royalty. But there is little sense of what constitutes elites status. There is an
assumption that various formulations—political elites, intellectual elites, cultural
elites, urban elites—are commonly understood. Similarly, those studying the
nebulous nature of post-industrial class formations often use ‘elite-theory’
revenants to compose their analyses (Khan, 2012, pp. 373–374).1
Fortunately, these scholars more closely interrogate the term elite than those
who deploy it in the popular media. For them elite has come to replace concepts
like ruling class or upper class that were bound to specific theoretical traditions
(Savage et al., 2013). This shift is representative of a need for a broad-based
approach to class as much as to the point that class today seems to manifest itself
as a binary between rich and poor, winners and losers, elite and hoi polloi. But
society does not work along such simple lines. These binaries may work to
highlight, and hopefully reduce, inequality; but they don’t show the complexity
of the structural processes that lead to class formation.
In the place of such simplification or theoretical rivalry, a more constructive
approach is needed. One has been suggested by Erik Olin Wright, who calls for
“pragmatist realism” to predominate class analysis (Wright, 2009, p. 101). That is,
an approach that combines the richness of various analytical traditions to create a
more holistic view of social class as determined by a range of factors. The notion
of class as process is the most useful generalisation in to which various theories
can be applied. The current consensus of sorts identifies unequal social structures
as based on uneven distribution of economic, social, and cultural capital.
Accepting such accord means that various theoretical traditions’ definitions of
class complement each other in different ways, often times through the very
conversations they are having with each other about the concept (Wright, 2005).
For this reason the sociology of elites should not be seen as a poor cousin of
other theoretical traditions. It is rather a coequal in class analysis by focusing on
the problem of understanding systems of economic inequality. We have now
arrived at a point where using the term elite no longer means a wholesale
acceptance or rejection of other sociological approaches. In fact, syncretic class
analysis has long been in place as each theorist or school approached the topic
with their own beliefs. This magnanimous approach to class analysis may ignore
crucial differences between various social theories that have often led to
internecine quarrels. But ongoing pronounced social inequality proves that such
quarrels did little to subvert the power they described.
Rather than enter the labyrinth of contemporary class analysis, much less its
brutal theoretical past, I want to suggest just one way that current approaches to
220 Howard Prosser
elite could be strengthened. That is, today’s sociology of elites could become
more penetrative by selectively drawing on the groundwork of previous
discussions of class and ideology. There is a possibility that previous obsessions
with class taxonomies can be jettisoned in favour of understanding class formation
as a historical phenomenon. Comprehending class means seeing it as a social and
cultural formation arising from processes that take place over a significant period
(Thompson, 1980, p. 9).
The chief historical virtue of elite theory and the sociology of elites is that they
reveal the ongoing dynamics of socio-economic inequality under democratic
conditions: the crises of liberalism a century apart. Where in the early 20th
century elite theorists were wary of democracy’s implications for those with
existing power, contemporary scholars now face the conundrum of how well-
established democratic conditions, despite championing equality, continue to
allow a select few to dominate. Coming to terms with the latter demands some
consideration of how elites reinforce and reproduce their position through
dominant ideological means that disguise the exploitative nature of their
ascendancy. At the current conjuncture this ideology is primarily a version of
liberalism, as neoliberalism, that believes humanity is best served by rapacious
acts: environmental destruction, food insecurity, worker precariousness and social
neglect.
Part of the justification for such ideology comes through an ‘economy of
eliteness’ that works to support the dominant class whatever it may be called.
There is, however, a risk that calling such dominators elites will likely assist in the
circulation of this economy. To be sure, elite remains a useful convention for
those working in the field to group their work around—which is reason enough,
for now, to continue its application—but accepting its currency may ignore the
larger historical forces at play. Its application may prop up the inequality most
scholars of elites seek to upset. This warning makes plain how eliteness is currently
a valuable and desirable trait. But the larger issue is that scholars need to be aware
of how class is a process that cannot be simply fixed or measured. Eliteness
informs the creation of social class through its illusory and nebulous application;
it possesses an ambiguity that benefits the interests of those the idea serves.
The economy of eliteness captures this symbolic dynamism by showing how
being elite is celebrated within a neoliberal environment. But it also shows how
eliteness is linked to the dominance of economic thinking. The achievement of
such eliteness is conspicuous through the process of consumption that conceals,
thanks to globalised markets and sophisticated culture industries, the exploitative
processes of production. The sale and purchase of educational opportunities is but
one part of this process. It is an important part because it reveals how primary and
secondary education, an experience generally regarded as an important social
good, has become a consumable means of social distinction rather than a social
leveller. In short, the ability to pay the high price of an elite education for one’s
children requires collusion with the exploitative processes of global capitalism.
Exchange in the Economy of Eliteness

As a result, the economy of eliteness is shown to be a process based on exchange.
There is a reciprocal relationship between the clients and the elite schools that
amounts to a form of exchange. For example, confusion around the meaning of
elite in elite education serves the institutions and their clients well. By creating an
air of grandeur around excellent tuition, through either rumour or marketing, the
school becomes more attractive. Likewise, by being able to send your children to a
highly regarded and expensive school is a confirmation of social eliteness. These
two interpretations quickly become mutually dependent when applied and then
circulated among and beyond the schools’ locations. The circular logic of this
exchange is that educational advantage contributes to the production of eliteness.
To illustrate this economy of eliteness I take some examples from the
Caledonian School, an elite school in the greater Buenos Aires region in
Argentina, at which I spent six months carrying out ethnographic fieldwork
during 2011. This school is highly regarded and is part of a significant group of
Argentine elite schools know locally as ‘English’ or ‘British’ schools due to their
bilingual curricula (English–Spanish) and their association with the Anglo-
Argentine community in Buenos Aires (Tiramonti & Ziegler, 2008, pp. 32–33).
That community is now in its dotage—its heyday was in the railway boom of the
late 19th and early 20th centuries—and has been replaced by families seeking to
benefit from the reputation that the school established as a parochial school
(Rock, 2008, p. 72).
Today, Caledonian’s prohibitive fees mean that only families at a certain
income scale can afford to send their children there. This economic definition
equates to a classical Marxist analysis that would see class homogeneity based
largely on income from entrepreneurial or rentier pursuits.2 Such homogeneity
extends to similarities in political outlook and cultural types. They constitute part
of the ruling class that exercises power through wealth and the influence that
comes with it, although they remain separated from direct government power.
A definition of the school’s clientele can therefore be quite precise. It
overwhelmingly stems from Argentina’s entrepreneurial elite. The fees of the
school, along with relatively few scholarships, mean that only certain families can
afford to pay. The overwhelming majority of these families derive their income
from their own commercial enterprises that are either directly or indirectly
associated with agricultural land use. To be sure, other high-waged professions such
as lawyers, engineers, and doctors send their children to the school, but according
to the school the overwhelming majority are entrepreneurs usually with family-
owned businesses. A 2011 internal assessment of admissions procedures, which
surveyed over 100 families, revealed that 40% of fathers were “businessmen”
(empresarios), with the next largest number being the 8% “employed in the private
sector”. For mothers, just over 20% were “housewives” (amas de casa) and then 12%
and 11% were “lawyers” and “businesswomen” (Caledonian School, 2011).
222 Howard Prosser
Such homogeneity shows how the economy of eliteness works to support

specific groups. The school’s clientele fits the bill as elite precisely because they
are able to afford to send their children to Caledonian, while the decision to do
so is because it is seen as an elite school—in terms of its academic quality and its
demographic. Thus the school’s eliteness is assured by catering to this group;
while being associated with the school reinforces the group’s eliteness. This
mutual relationship is the heart of a virtuous exchange between the school and its
clientele. The economics of the situation are crucial since the origins of the
wealth comes from privately owned means of production re-invested into the
school, and thus the clientele’s children, to promote the reproduction of their
wealth and class.
Value in the Economy of Eliteness

Here is where the value of the economy of eliteness lies within elite schooling.
Such value initially comes from economic arrangements. The ability to purchase
an elite education is inextricably linked to exploitative social processes. The
façade of educational excellence and beautiful buildings hide their presence in the
same way that commodity fetishism disassembles the social relations in the
production processes. The ability to pay high fees permits the hoarding of
educational opportunities via old-fashioned exploitation of surplus labour.
The main point here is that economic determinants are entwined with a
variety of symbolic, moral and cultural factors. Sociologist Beverley Skeggs
worked through such a confluence in her Class, Self, Culture (2004) to suggest
that class is made and given value through culture and how culture is employed
as a resource of class power. This cultural production of class is distinct in the way
that the value of economic capital is also inscribed with morality. Skeggs (2004,
pp. 6–18) discussed a moral economy of class in which cultural resources are
ascribed ‘value’ and ‘exchange’ potential. In this process, certain characteristics
become valuable, at the expense of others, and convertible within a social frame
that also legitimises them as morally right.
Elite independent schools in general have to be regarded as institutions for
those who predominate in social relations that are ultimately detrimental to
others. But this is not something they want to advertise. Here a further notion of
value is at work in this economy: eliteness becomes something earned and thus
deserved. Elite schools are given a socially defined value by those with an interest
in inflating this value. Yet such inflation must be justified and meritocracy
provides the perfect means through which to do so. The perfect ruse of the
neoliberal moment is that elite social positions are accessible through meritocratic
systems—hard work on a level playing field—rather than through access to the
elite institutions that assist in class reproduction. Such pretence assists in the
propagation of an elite imaginary that is global in its scope: the widespread belief
that a sybaritic existence is life’s chief pursuit and achieving it is a competitive
activity. The neoliberal dream encourages membership in the social elite at

others’ expense.
In Buenos Aires, cultural influences lead parents to choose the Caledonian
School over others, especially because its elite education has value in Argentina
and beyond. Keen parents must make this decision early on in their child’s life.
This fact alone says something about the value of school choice among this
economic elite as a form of symbolic capital. Unlike entry to the selective state
schools, which takes place around the beginning of secondary schooling, those
students hoping to enter Caledonian are three years old. The demand for places
is high and competitive—around three to four prospective students apply for the
one position—because of the school’s reputation. So parents are aware they make
a long-term commitment, and investment, when choosing the Caledonian
School—based on the current situation, over 90% of those kindergarteners will
graduate as classmates 13 or so years later.
A culture of discussion around the school’s reputation facilitates the choice to
send one’s children there. There are a number of similar schools—often with
English or other bilingual curricula—from which these affluent families can
choose. The list is limited to no more than 10 alternatives that are seen as in the
same league as Caledonian. According to the school’s 2011 admissions survey,
parents gave three main reasons for choosing Caledonian: the school’s academic
quality; the values the school imparts; and the excellent level of English taught
(Caledonian School, 2011). These responses are certainly in keeping with the
way that the school sells itself and thus with the type of clients to which it caters.
Here the value of the school is at its most obvious. Each trait is highly valued
in today’s global society: academic excellence implies greater tertiary and post-
tertiary prospects; solid values instruction points to a well-rounded character
befitting a traditional private institution (perhaps as opposed to a public one); and
English-language facility suggests a potential mobility as well as a degree of
cosmopolitanism. Even these three alone create an aspirational picture of the
Caledonian alumnus: a university-educated, bilingual sophisticate.
Producing the Elite Imaginary

And what parent wouldn’t want that for their child? When it comes to school
choice, if it is available, most parents value highest the school’s academic performance
(although just how this performance is measured is a different matter). And many
do their upmost to give their children educational advantage—as the increasing
popularity of charter schools or voucher systems attest. This desire for educational
advantage indicates a competitive model within the school system: between schools
as well as between students. The commodification of universal education in the
past few decades divides public and private systems along class lines. It is a market
logic that is governing not just schooling, but most social provisions around the
world. This situation manifests in Argentina as a dual system comprising the chief
224 Howard Prosser
“quasi-state monopoly” (public schools and subsidised Catholic schools) and a

much more select marketplace filled by elite independent schools (Narodowski,
2008, pp. 135–138). Consequently, as elsewhere, there is shared presumption
among those parents who decide to pay the high fees of elite schools: that a school’s
quality is proportional to the cost of sending their child there. There are high odds
that the educated sophisticate can be bought from Caledonian. In so doing, parents
are investing in their child’s future.
The notion of investment is crucial here since it combines both the economic
means as well as speculation of future returns. Such speculation produces an elite
imaginary: an image of what eliteness constitutes. Where the provision of elite
education is available social elites will invest in it because it becomes a means of
expressing and reproducing their eliteness. Here the elite imaginary of neoliberalism
is manifest: the conspicuous consumption of high-priced goods and services is a
marker of social worth. At the current conjuncture high social status is measured by
one’s ability to earn and spend. This scenario leads to what geographer Michael
Storper (2000, p. 398) identified as a “new positional inequality in consumption”
whereby elites’ consumption of goods and services, especially those that used to be
publically offered, is deleterious to those on the lowest incomes in society. The
illusion is that the consumer economy is equally open to all.
When elite aspirations become ‘democratised’ through consumption, as
normalised in everyday life, then the competition for individual status trumps any
calls for social equality (Dardot & Laval, 2013). The democracy at work here fits
with the meritocratic value of social positions as something earned in conditions
of economic equality. Under this logic, the rich become deserving; but, as a
corollary, the poor’s position is also justified. Those who profit from positions of
influence within this capitalist system paradoxically want to see elite attributes—
hyper-consumerism, workaholism, privatisation—democratised to improve their
own lot (Gregg, 2011). The outcome is an elite imaginary that is global in its
vision of what constitutes success.
The weakening of state formations since the 1980s, especially the reversal of
the post-war consensus around the welfare state, has seen an increase in the size
of private wealth. This is probably even more pronounced in Argentina, and
similar nations, where the state has always been authoritarian or unstable in
character. The outcome is a concentration of power in the hands of oligarchies
(Echeverría, 2011). Such oligarchies justify their position as legitimately earned
through meritocratic systems in much the same way as aristocracies of the past
referred to divine law. Indeed, the meritocratic basis to those with power today
harks back to divine bases for social exclusion. The ecclesiastical origins of the
term elite identify those who are ‘the elect’ or ‘the chosen’ (eligere in Latin) for
eternal salvation. When this notion is extended, across a few centuries, to a
Protestant work ethic bound by predestination and then to a liberal sacralisation
of capital accumulation, eliteness quickly becomes an earned or deserving status.
Meritocracy underpins such deservedness and eliteness is its highest reward.
Social eliteness defined as affluence indicates, at heart, the good fortune of

accumulating more capital than others (and usually at these others’ expense). This
is the economy of eliteness at work. Such meritocracy, originally a term of satire
(Young, 1958), is in keeping with visions of society that celebrate those draped
in the material trappings of success. Achieving such success is underpinned by a
liberal championing of opportunity instead of equality. Using the term elite is
using the language of meritocracy in which those who are members of the elite
deserve to be regarded as such and, by the same logic, those who are excluded do
too. Ultimately, elite became synonymous with deserved power and social
righteousness. Such synonymity is a classic self-legitimising function of ruling-
class ideology. Indeed, the economy of eliteness itself has a strong historical
element that sees eliteness justified with reference to, and especially the imitation
of, previously dominant groups.
Argentina’s post-neoliberal context certainly questions the celebration of
eliteness that seems widespread throughout the world (Wylde, 2012). Since 2003,
the Kirchner governments’ redistributive and nationalising agenda, arising from
the ruins of a neoliberal experiment, condemned those elites that they believe are
undermining the national project with their own self-interest (Cohen, 2012, pp.
84–131). Yet an elite imaginary remains. Argentina may be moving toward a
post-neoliberal mindset, but its economic elites recognised this position has
limited currency within a global domain. Consequently, anthropologist Aihwa
Ong’s (2007, pp. 3–8) point about neoliberal mobility stands: in Argentina the
selective use of neoliberal ideology continues in this specific context in spite of its
‘post’ status.
Promoting Educational Consumption

Despite this context, schooling’s commodification continues in the same way as
elsewhere in the world. The symbolic nature of elite schooling—what it
represents in class terms—is a product to be consumed by those that can afford it
and accepted as superior by those who cannot. Within the process of consumption
the symbolic or cultural aspect of elite schooling is directly linked to the material
realities that facilitate class difference. A harsher economic underlay supports the
softer cultural appearances of social distinction. Instead of seeing eliteness as a
position of cultural difference, one ideologically reinforced by its relationship to
non-elites, it must be recognised as linked to a process of production and
consumption. A prestigious school education is a prerequisite (or, better yet, a
perquisite) for a future of privilege. Elite schooling is seen as a means of buying
not only educational advantage but class power.
In her 2005 essay, “The Re-Branding of Class”, Skeggs calls for the need to
rethink class analysis along such consumer lines. The essay pointed to a key aspect
of the consumer capitalism system—branding—to show how class today is now
a “cultural property” with different value (Skeggs, 2005, p. 47). The dynamics of
226 Howard Prosser
the culture industries facilitates this process by making certain representations of

class acceptable, especially in moral terms like good or bad. Certain classes come
to embody these moral judgements through the consumer choices they make. As
ethnographer Arjun Appadurai (2013, pp. 230–231) argues, status groups are
“defined by lifestyle and consumption rather than by their relationship to the
means of production”.
There are many instances of this process—from the popularisation of elite
culture, via the economy-of-scale manufacturing of luxury goods and services
often celebrated by Hollywood and its imitators, to the fictionalisation of finance
capital, in which both the purchase and the commodities become abstractions, in
both the cause and solution to the 2008 crisis. All of these instances serve to hide
the commodity and the production processes that go into it. Such concealment is
fetishisation and alienation writ large. The point that Skeggs made about branding
now, thanks to economic analysis now returning with a vengeance, can be seen
as capturing the symbolic and the material nature of contemporary capitalist
exchange.
The global market economy advances the commodity’s presence as value—in
labour terms, especially—by celebrating consumption and concealing production.
The marketing of desirable consumer goods with little mind to how they are
made assists with such concealment. This process is made all the easier when the
production process takes place in the ‘developing’ world, as is the nature of
manufacturing imports in the post-industrial conditions. Consumption, by
contrast, becomes seemingly more accessible via a suffusion of images that appear
to make consumers more discerning about what goods and services, including
education, they want to buy. And the products seen as elite, or representing the
elite imaginary, hold the most value. The economy of eliteness thus supports a
larger global capitalist enterprise. This is yet another display of contemporary
capitalism’s consumerist spectacle—as in Debord’s (1994, p. 24) “capital
accumulated to the point where it becomes image”—that obscures the
exploitation involved in the production and consumption of goods.
How does this apply to the provision of private schooling in Argentina,
especially the Caledonian School? Through the economy of eliteness, one’s
relation to consumption becomes a social marker in the same way that production
was in the past. Paying for elite schooling implies membership of a social elite.
The process of consumption explains the rationale behind the rise of such schools
as markers of not just educational excellence but social worth. Simply put,
education’s commodification results in echelons of provision throughout society
and the way education is consumed indicates social position as well as social
gravity. Certain schools (and universities) become the equivalent of luxury goods
able to be bought by the very rich. A Caledonian School education is sold
alongside its compeers as the best education money can buy for their children.
The uniqueness of the Caledonian situation is that the school has a very strong
brand within the economy of eliteness. This brand is associated with the school’s
longstanding history as one of Argentina’s oldest private schools; its association

with Britishness and, by extension, Anglophone liberalism and commercialism;
its status as the Argentine version of the preppy schools envisioned in popular
culture, especially from the USA; and an ability to not be held to this history and
thus remain mobile, perhaps based on a general process of Argentine reinvention.
The decision to send your children to a private school, especially one of the
Caledonian’s pedigree, signifies something within a broader social context about
your commitment to your children’s future. It implies a prudent investment in
them. In meritocratic logic, which is not dissimilar to consumer therapy, the cost
is worth it because the outcome is deserved.
The offshoot, of course, is that not sending your child to such schools, to go
public, is to misjudge the social landscape and a moral failure in parenting. The
act of the purchase, the performance of being able to buy, becomes important.
The immorality of the non-private is the ultimate triumph of neoliberal primacy
of the individual over the social. Here Skeggs’ notion of value as having moral
worth is important to the economy of eliteness. School choice is a performance
in righteousness in the same way that consuming particular goods—especially
those with some social-justice narrative—is now seen as somehow morally
superior. But it is a decision still made devoid of thought about the class formation,
especially painful processes of wealth extraction, that are at the heart of this
consumption process. As Skeggs (2004, pp. 12–13) suggests, by associating a child
with a brand, like that of the school, class struggle is engaged “through culture as
a form of symbolic violence, through relationships of entitlement that are
legitimised and institutionalised, and it is these processes that set limits on who
can and cannot belong, be, and have worth on a national and global stage”.
Leveraging the Economy of Eliteness

If the economy of eliteness allows consumption to increase the value of eliteness,
then purchasing elite education becomes essential to imagined success in global
capitalism. The connection between this outcome and the education is not
necessarily incorrect. After all, those who receive such educations do better in
their accumulation of capital and wealth than others. Yet this fact alone shows
how class power is reproduced through a commodified educational process.
More than this, class power is not only reproduced but access to greater class
power, membership of society’s elite, is itself commodified. A confluence of
important factors assist in the reproduction of class power of which education is
just one; however, the purchase of elite education is a means of gaining leverage
in this process.
The Caledonian School holds a symbolic class value that is transferable in both
the local and global context. Graduates who either remain in Argentina or move
around the globe can draw on their Caledonian background for networks and
knowledge that allows them to enter and find comfort in realms of eliteness. Buying
228 Howard Prosser
this alumni status pays future dividends. The means of consumption leads to the
production of an elite imaginary. An image of eliteness is being produced through
the very process of consumption. In this sense, the consumption of an elite school
education can be regarded as part of a cultural production process. That is, students
taught at the school learn the correct curriculum, meet the right people, and
cultivate the correct tastes for their future success as part of Argentina’s economic
elite. A Caledonian School education produces alumni—especially the children of
the nouveau riche—with the requisite cultural capital for this imagined future.
Elite education is not just about the commodification of education. Paying for
prestigious schooling has long been the case. What we see today, within the
economy of eliteness, is the commodification of class power through the
purchasing of educational advantage. More insidiously, the decision to do so is
portrayed as a consumer choice with a morally superior air. The hidden presence
of the production and consumption process within this exchange betrays the
social inequality at the heart of commodified education. As a result, the surplus of
resources available to the elite school means that any comparison with other
schools needs to take these resources into account. The consumption of educational
advantage, through its purchase, becomes a means of reinforcing inequality
because it concentrates educational resources in the minds of the wealthy.
Further, precisely because the quality of education is linked to the demands of
global capitalism, those who hold advantage in this system define elite education’s
eliteness. It works in the schools’ interests that this reputation blurs both class
definitions and the quality of education. This is elite, or ruling-class, ideology at
work in neoliberal times. A marketised version of every social issue means that
education becomes a consumer product and the economy of eliteness makes elite
schooling all the more attractive. Past mimeses of eliteness—usually manifest in
the appropriation of noble aesthetics—now occurs through its purchase rather
than mere usurpation.
Consequently, it is incumbent on the sociology of elite education to remain
mindful of this situation so that it does not become complicit with this very subtle
process of social partitioning. To be sure, elite remains a useful convention for those
working in the field to group their work around, but accepting its currency may
ignore some of the larger historical processes at play. Its application also runs the risk
of propping up the inequality such scholars may seek to upset. Scholars working on
social elites and elite education must be wary of how their research upholds the
economy of eliteness and thus may contribute to the inequality they seek to reverse.
Notes
1 For ease of understanding, by ‘elite theory’ I mean that which emerged in early
20th-century Europe, especially Italy, with theorists like Robert Michels, Gaetano
Mosca, and Vilfredo Pareto. The current focus on elites fits more neatly into a
‘sociology of elites’ tradition that began during the 1960s.
2 Less than 5% of students are on scholarships that reduce rates for children of teachers
or those alumni with continuing ties to the school community. Such provision points
to a difference between the teaching staff and the clientele in terms of income. This is
representative of a class difference. However, the teachers’ wages are higher than in
the public system or the majority of private schools. So too is the staff’s cultural
capital—English-language fluency, for example—because many teachers are former
students of ‘English’ schools like Caledonian. This connection is part of the overall
reproduction of eliteness and class formations.
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CONTRIBUTORS
Helena C. Araújo is Professor in the Faculty of Psychology and Education

Sciences in the University of Porto (Portugal). She is the Director of the Centre
for Research in Education (CIIE/UP). She currently teaches Sociology of
Education, Gender Studies and Citizenship and Diversity. She is the Portuguese
coordinator of an EU FP7 project “Reducing Early School Leaving in Europe
(RESL.eu)” (2013–2018). Her research interests are: Education as a Social Right;
School Disengagement; Young People Biographies and Pathways; Gender,
Education, and Citizenship; Intercultural Education; Women Participation and
Higher Education; Educational Policies and Life Course Research. Email:
hcaraujo@mail.telepac.pt.
Caroline Bertron is a doctoral student in Sociology and Anthropology at the

University Paris 1 Panthéon-Sorbonne (France) and University of Lausanne
(Switzerland). Her research interests include the sociology of elites and elite
schooling, the role of transnational mobility and migration for social reproduction
and reconversions, and historical sociology. Email: carolinehs.bertron@gmail.com.
Hugues Draelants is Associate Professor at the Université catholique de Louvain and

member of the Interdisciplinary Research Group in Socialization, Education, and
Training (GIRSEF). He was previously a Research Fellow with the Fonds de la
Recherche Scientifique (F.R.S.-FNRS) in Belgium and Post-doctoral Researcher at
the Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique (CNRS) in France. He has published
on elite and education in several international journals (British Journal of Sociology of
Education, French Politics, Higher Education, Research Papers in Education, Social Science
Information) and in the 2015 World Yearbook of Education. He also works on education
policy implementation (cf. Réforme pédagogique et légitimation, De Boeck 2009) and
232 Contributors
on schools as organisations (cf. L’identité des établissements scolaires, co-authored with

Xavier Dumay, PUF 2011). Email: hugues.draelants@uclouvain.be.
Christopher Drew, Kristina Gottschall, Natasha Wardman, and Sue

Saltmarsh are academics from Australian universities working across education
studies, cultural studies, gender studies, and media studies. In recent years they
have conducted research into educational marketisation in Australia, through
which they have highlighted and challenged the ways that educational
marketisation exacerbates competitiveness, elitism, and exclusionary educational
practices. Their examinations of promotional materials produced by Australia’s
elite private schools have focused on the ways that gender, race, geographic
location and socioeconomic privilege are invoked in the promotions in the
service and maintenance of competitive educational and social hierarchies. Email:
christopher.drew@hotmail.com.
Radha Iyer teaches in the School of Cultural and Professional Learning in the
Faculty of Education, Queensland University of Technology, Australia. Her
expertise and research interests are literacy, English as a Second Language, critical
discourse analysis, and sociology of education. Email: radha.iyer@qut.edu.au.
Jane Kenway is Professorial Fellow with the Australian Research Council, Professor
in the Education Faculty at Monash University, and elected Fellow of the Academy
of Social Sciences, Australia. Her research expertise is in socio-cultural studies of
education in the context of wider social and cultural change, focusing particularly
on matters of power and politics. Her most recent jointly edited book is Asia as
Method in Education Studies: A Defiant Research Imagination (Routledge 2015). She
currently leads an international team conducting a multi-national five-year research
project called Elite schools in globalising circumstances: a multi-sited global ethnography.
Arising from this project she has recently co-edited special issues of the International
Journal of Qualitative Studies in Education —‘New Directions for Research on Elites
and Elite Education: Methodological Challenges’; the British Journal of Sociology of
Education —‘New Sociologies of Elite Schooling: Fresh Theoretical, Methodological
and Empirical Explorations’; Globalisation, Societies and Education—‘Elite Schools in
Globalising Circumstances: New Conceptual Directions and Connections’. Class
Choreographies: Elite Schools and Globalisation is jointly written by the research team
(Palgrave 2016). Email: Jane.Kenway@monash.edu.
Aaron Koh is Associate Professor in the School of Education and Professional

Studies, Griffith University, Australia. He previously taught in Monash University,
Hong Kong Institute of Education, and National Institute of Education, Singapore.
He has published in the areas of Global Studies in Education, Cultural Studies in
Education and Sociology of Education. He is on the Editorial Boards of Journal of
Adolescent & Adult Literacy, Curriculum Inquiry, Journal of Curriculum and Pedagogy and
Contributors 233
Discourse: Studies in the cultural politics of education. He is also the co-founding editor
of a Springer Book Series: Cultural Studies and Transdisciplinarity in Education.
Moosung Lee is Centenary Professor at the University of Canberra. Prior to joining

the University of Canberra, he held appointments as Associate Professor and Founding
Deputy Director of Education Policy Unit at the University of Hong Kong. He has
published numerous articles in high-quality academic outlets in the areas of educational
leadership and administration, urban education, and comparative education. He is the
recipient of the AERA’s Emerging Scholar Award in Division A (Administration,
Organisation, & Leadership). Email: MooSung.Lee@canberra.edu.au.
Chin Ee Loh is Assistant Professor at the National Institute of Education, Nanyang

Technological University. Her research and publications are in reading politics
and social class, literature and literacy education at the nexus of globalisation, and
teacher education. Email: chinee.loh@nie.edu.sg.
Eunice Macedo is a Research Fellow at CIIE and experienced teacher in adult

and teacher training. Currently, she is a Post-Doc in the international project
RESL.eu—Reducing Early School Leaving in the EU [FP7-SSH-2012-1]. She
is also the Vice President of the board of direction of Paulo Freire Institute of
Portugal. She has published in the areas of citizenship, education, youth and
gender. Her most recent book is Cidadania em confronto: Educação de jovens elites em
tempo de globalização [Confronting citizenship: elite education in a time of globalisation]
(LivPsic & CIIE 2009). Email: Eunice@fpce.up.pt.
Howard Prosser researches and teaches at the Faculty of Education, Monash

University, Australia. His research interests include social theory, history of ideas,
and ethnography. Most recently he has investigated political culture at an elite
school in Argentina and co-edited In the Realm of the Senses: Social Aesthetics and the
Sensory Dynamics of Privilege (Springer 2015). Email: howard.prosser@monash.edu.
Bertrand Réau is Senior Lecturer in Sociology at the University of Paris 1

Panthéon Sorbonne and researcher at the European Centre of Sociology and
Political Science—European Centre of Sociology (Ecole des Hautes Etudes en
Sciences Sociales-CNRS-Paris 1). He is a founding member of the seminar
‘Tourisme: Recherches, Pratiques, Institutions’ at the Ecole des Hautes Etudes en
Sciences Sociales (Paris). His work explores the social use of leisure time (both
contemporarily and historically), the political function of ethnic tourism in
Southeast Asia and the sociology of science. He has published three books: (with
François Denord), La sociologie de Charles Wright Mills (La Découverte, Paris,
2014); Les Français et les vacances: Sociologie de l’offre et des pratiques de loisirs (CNRS
Editions, Paris, 2011); and (with Saskia Cousin), Sociologie du tourisme (La
Découverte, Paris, 2011). Email: breau@univ-paris1.fr.
234 Contributors
Allan Walker is Joseph Lau Chair Professor of International Educational

Leadership and Director of the Asia Pacific Centre for Leadership and Change at
the Hong Kong Institute of Education. His research focuses on expanding
knowledge of school leadership in Chinese and other Asian societies and
disseminating this internationally. Email: adwalker@ied.edu.hk.
Yujia Wang has a PhD from Monash University. Her thesis explores elite
education and the formation of privileged youthful identities in mobility against
the backdrop of globalisation and transnationalism. She is currently rewriting her
thesis into a book contracted with Springer. The book is titled, Making and
Remaking a Youthful Chinese Self in an Australian School: The Complex Logics of
Culture, Class and Good Life. Email: tracy.yujia.wang@gmail.com.
Shane Watters is a researcher based in the School of Social Policy, Sociology

and Social Research at the University of Kent in the United Kingdom. He has a
broad spectrum of research interests in the field of education ranging from social
stratification and reproduction to the management of higher education in a global
context. Recognition for research conducted for the chapter in this book includes
being nominated for a prestigious Faculty research prize within his institution.
Email: s.j.watters@kent.ac.uk.
Ewan Wright is a PhD student in the Faculty of Education at the University of

Hong Kong. Prior to joining the University of Hong Kong he worked with
various think tanks in the UK and Hong Kong including Centre for Cities,
Demos and Civic Exchange. His core research interests are based around
inequality in education, elite schools and emerging forms of educational
distinction. Email: ewantmwright@gmail.com.
Wee Loon Yeo teaches Anthropology at the School of the Arts, Singapore. He
completed his PhD in Anthropology at the University of Western Australia. His
writing has been published in journals such as International Studies in Sociology of
Education and Ethnography and Education. Wee Loon maintains a keen research
interest in the social effects of elite schooling, including class reproduction,
gender, and youth identity. Email: weeloon.yeo@sota.edu.sg.
Sandra Ziegler is Senior Researcher at the Department of Education in the Latin

American Faculty of Social Sciences (FLACSO, Argentina) and Director of the
Centre of Studies on Elites and Educational Inequalities. She is also Professor at
the University of Buenos Aires (UBA). She has published several articles and two
books on elite education in Argentina. Email: sziegler@flacso.org.ar.
INDEX
Note: Page numbers in italics are for tables.
Abrantes, P. 159, 160 Appadurai, A. 8, 9, 36, 226

academic excellence 175, 176–7, 178, 223 Apple, M. 9
academic performance 44, 148, 151, 223; Araújo, H. C. 159, 161, 165
and Asian masculinity 28–30 Argentina 223–4; Caledonian School,
Ace Institution, Singapore 11–12, 73; Buenos Aires 218, 221–2, 223, 226–7,
cosmopolitan outlook 75, 76–7, 78, 227–8; inequality 202; and neoliberal
80–2, 83; excellence, discourse of 75, ideology 225; poverty 203; privatisation
78; IBDP adoption 76, 77; institutional of education 203–4; school choice 14,
habitus 12, 75–83; as Integrated 203, 204, 205–16 (and discipline
Program (IP) school 76; meritocracy, 207–8; and modern curriculum
discourse of 77–80, 82–3; Overseas 209–10; public education 210–12, 213;
Enrichment Programmes 80–2, 83; and religious education 207–8; and
service aspect 76, 77, 80–2 socialisation 203, 206, 207, 208, 210,
affect 1–2; see also emotions 211–12; and tradition 205–12);
Afonso, A. 157, 160 social fragmentation 202–3
agency 78, 79; and privilege 2; and Arnot, M. 161, 164
structure 72 Arribas-Ayllon, M. 126
Aggleton, P. 2, 9, 202 arts and media, as employment destination
Aguiar, A. 205 112, 116
Aguiar, L. 116 Asian/Chinese masculinity 10–11, 19,
Ahmed, S. 12, 88–90, 91–2, 94, 96, 97 23–30, 43; and academic performance
Alexander, C. 93 28–30; and car culture 26–8; and sport
Allan, A. 19 24–5, 42, 43; wen-wu dyad 11, 23–30, 43
alumni networks see old boy networks Atkins, G. L. 23
Ambedkar, B. R. 10 Australian Education International (AEI) 19
Amelina, A. 8 Australian elite schools 71; and Asian
Annamali, E. 123 masculinity see Asian/Chinese
236 Index
masculinity; Chinese international Brown, P. 115, 144, 152

students see Chinese international Brown, W. 5–6
students; happiness narratives in school Brummitt, N. 53
websites 12, 87, 90–8 Brunold-Conesa, C. 59
Australian Rules football 25 Bryanston School, UK 108, 115
Bryant, D. 57, 61
Ball, S. 4, 9, 75, 104, 146, 157, 161, 205, Buisson-Fenet, H. 148
206, 214n8 Bullen, E. 89
Ballatore, M. 144, 194 Bunnell, T. 53, 71, 77, 133
Ballion, R. 147 Burgess, I. 24
Bamford, T. 104 business, as employment destination 102
Barrère, A. 147 Butler, J. 97
Barroso, J. 160
basketball culture 40, 42, 43 Cain, C. 72
Bauman, Z. 217 Caldwell, T. 95
Beachton Grammar, Melbourne 37–46 Caledonian School, Buenos Aires 218,
behavioural competences 143–4, 152 221–2, 223, 226–7, 227–8
Belfield, C. R. 160 Canada 124; as university destination for
Bernard, R. 107 IDBP graduates 57
Bernstein, B. 161, 164 capital 2, 8–9, 72–3, 104–5, 117, 189;
Bhattacharya, S. 123 accumulation 6, 14, 226, 227; cognitive
Bidart, C. 146, 147 141; cosmopolitan 81, 189; economic
Black, J. 191 89, 143, 145, 148, 152, 200, 219;
Boltanski, L. 176, 183 finance 226; human 74, 77, 113;
Boni-Le Goff, I. 178 linguistic 141; physical 33;
Börjesson, M. 189 transnational/international 53, 189,
boundary work 6 193–200; see also cultural capital; social
Bourdieu, P. 2, 6, 41, 46, 79, 105, 113, capital; symbolic capital
114, 122, 124, 130, 139, 140, 148, 158, capitalism 4, 8–9; consumer 225, 226;
162, 163, 183, 189, 203; co-curriculum global 10, 220, 227, 228
39; cultural capital 13, 104, 113, 117, car culture, and Asian masculinity 26–8
139, 141–2, 143, 144, 161; habitus 71, careers 29, 30, 39; see also employment
72, 83; social capital 12, 104, 111, 117, destinations; employment
124; symbolic capital 124, 174–5 opportunities
Boutier, J. 192 Carneiro, E. 157, 160
Bowles, S. 71 Carneiro, R. 160
Boyd, D. 101–2, 104, 114 Carnoy, M. 125
Boyer, K. 94 Carrabine, E. 27
Bradfield College, UK 109 caste system, India 10
branding 5, 13–14, 88, 225–7 Catzaras, N. 193, 194
Braslavsky, C. 205 Cecil, Sir W. 190
Brazil 203, 205 Chapman, A. 87
Britain see United Kingdom (UK) Chapoulie, J.-M. 141
British Cohort Study (BCS70) 103 character 22, 53, 70
British Household Panel Survey Charles, C. 19
(BHPS) 103 Charterhouse, UK 109
Broady, D. 189 Chauvin, S. 184
Brooks, R. 5, 33, 124, 125 Chiche, J. 193, 194
Index 237
China 52–4; international schools 53–4; cognitive ability 103, 105

National Outline for Medium and cognitive capital 141
Long-Term Education Reform and Cohen, M. 225
Development (2010—2020) 53; Coleman, S. 5
poverty levels 62 collective learning 29
China, International Baccalaureate schools Collins, R. 70
11, 50–69; Creativity, Action, Service colonialism 9; and Indian elite schools
(CAS) courses 11, 51, 60–1, 64; and IB 12–13, 123–5
Learner Profile attributes 59–60, 61–2, Colyar, J. 203
64 (intercultural understanding 11, 51, Comaroff, J. & Comaroff, J. 5
60, 61, 63–4; open-mindedness 11, 51, commodification 13, 158; of class power
57, 61–2, 63–4); school fees 56, 58–9, 228; of education 63, 88, 132–3, 157,
63; skyboxification perspective on 51, 223–4, 225, 228; of happiness 89, 97
52, 56, 59–61, 62–3, 64; and university communication: competences 143–4;
entrance 50–1, 56, 57–8, 60, 63 intercultural 44–5
Chinese international students, Australian competitiveness 88, 95, 122, 131, 132,
elite schools 10–11; and Asian 160, 163–4, 166; economic (India 125;
masculinity see Asian/Chinese Singapore 74); and hobbies and interests
masculinity; and co-curricular programs 41, 42; and masculinity 24, 25
37, 38, 39–47; cultural identity conformity 93
construction 11, 33, 34, 37, 39–46, 47; Connell, R. W. 9, 10, 19, 20, 21, 23, 24,
sports participation 24–5, 39–41, 42; 25, 30, 47, 132
and well-roundedness ethos 37, 39–46 consumer capitalism 225, 226
Chinese masculinity see Asian/Chinese consumerism 13, 123, 125
masculinity consumption 164, 168, 220, 224; and class
choice of school see school choice 225–6; of elite education 218, 220,
Chong, T. 74 225, 226–7, 228; and happiness 89;
Christensen, P. 92 inequality 224
Cipollone, K. 3, 51, 124, 205 Cookson, P. W. 20, 22, 23, 206
citizenship 167–8; global 70, 76–7; see also Correia, F. 160
cosmopolitanism Cortesão, L. 157, 161
Clarendon, G. 106 cosmopolitan capital 81, 189
class 2, 10, 12, 13, 14, 15, 73, 94, 217–18; cosmopolitanisation failures 47
and consumption 225–6; as cultural cosmopolitanism 72, 73, 74–5, 83, 189;
property 225–6; and culture 222; and Ace Institution, Singapore 75, 76–7,
employment destination 113; 78, 80–2, 83; cultural 11, 33, 34, 35–7,
hierarchies 167, 168; institutional 42–3, 44–6, 47; in-depth 46, 47; Swiss
narratives of 87, 97; moral economy of boarding schools 174, 184–5
222; Singapore 74 Cotovio, J. 157
class analysis 219–20 Coulangeon, P. 140, 143
class power 225, 227, 228 Council of International Schools 129,
Clifton College, UK 109; Old Cliftonian 133
Business Community 113 Courtois, A. 71
co-curricular programs: as socialising Cousin, B. 184, 194
experiences 39, 43–4; and well- Creativity, Action, Service (CAS) courses
roundedness ethos 37, 38, 39–47; see 11, 51, 60–1, 64, 65n2
also sport credentials/credentialism 70, 71
Coates, H. 59 Credit Suisse 4
238 Index
Cresswell, T. 94 culture industries 220, 226

Crozier, G. 205 Curzon, G. N., Lord 123
cultural autism 166–7, 168
cultural capital 33, 70, 72, 97, 113, 117, Dale, R. 10
123, 139, 140, 141, 161, 189, 203, 211, Daloz, J.-O. 1
219; attitudinal or `personal’ kind of Darchy-Koechlin, B. 9, 71, 217
144, 152; broad definition of 144–5; Dardot, P. 224
co-curricular 38; content of 145; effect Daverne, C. 142
of 145; and highbrow culture 140–1, Davies, S. 125
144, 151–2; informational kind of 144, Davis, M. 75
152; inheritance of 13, 139, 141, 152; De Graaf, N. D. 141
international kind of 144, 152; new Debord, G. 226
forms of 144–5; restricted definition of Del Cueto, C. 205
144, 145; transmission of 104, 141–3, Demerath, P. 71, 76
152; well-roundedness as form of 33–4, democracy 161, 220, 224
38, 45, 46 Dezalay, Y. 189
cultural choice 34, 35 DiMaggio, P. 144
cultural cosmopolitanism 11, 33, 34, 35–7, discipline 207–8
42–3, 44–6, 47 disciplines, academic 140
cultural difference 34, 41, 46, 47; discourse: Foucauldian notion of 126; Indian
openness to 36 elite school websites 12–13, 122–3,
cultural ethics 33, 42, 47 125–35; see also happiness narratives
cultural flows 36 Doherty, C. A. 50, 59
cultural globalisation 36 Donnat, O. 140
cultural identity 34–5; Chinese Donnelly, M. 51
international students 11, 33, 34, 37, Draelants, H. 71, 148, 151, 217
39–46, 47; and mediation 34–5 Drew, C. 88, 96, 125
cultural inheritance 162, 165, 167; see also Dubet, F. 141, 206
cultural capital, inheritance of Dulwich College, UK 108
cultural logics 33, 35, 37, 47 Durkheim, E. 175
cultural logics/power duality 35 Duru-bellat, M. 146
cultural meanings 33, 34, 35, 47 Dutercq, Y. 142
cultural mediation 33, 35; of well-
roundedness ethos, Chinese Echeverría, B. 224
international students 37, 39–46 economic capital 89, 143, 145, 148, 152,
cultural omnivores 140 200, 219
cultural openness 188, 196 economic competitiveness: India 125;
cultural practices 34, 35, 38 Singapore 74
cultural rationalities 35, 37 economy of eliteness 14–15, 218;
cultural studies, affective turn in 89 exchange in 14–15, 221–2; leveraging
cultural univores 140 the 227–8; value in 222–3, 227
cultural values 33, 34, 35, 47 Edgeworth, K. 88, 125
culture: and class power 222; as form of education multinationals 177, 178, 185n8
symbolic violence 227; highbrow educational inequality 7–8, 203
140–1, 144, 151–2, 153n2, 175; educational travel 14, 188–201;
legitimate 139, 140; and masculinity 23; ERASMUS programme 14, 188, 194,
national 36; popular/mass 140; youth 200; Grand Tour 14, 172, 174, 185n3,
45, 141 188, 190–3; overseas enrichment
Index 239
programmes 71, 81–2, 83, 131; fairness 63, 64

peregrinatio academica 14, 188, 190; family: school as 91–4; and Swiss boarding
Sciences Po students 14, 188, 193–9 schools 178–80
Edwards, A. 24 family background 14, 71, 72, 103
Elias, N. 200n3 family transmission of culture 141–2, 143
elite formation, and school choice, Farkas, G. 143
Argentina 14, 202–16 Featherstone, M. 36
elite imaginary 218, 222–3, 223–5, 228 Feinstein, L. 105
“Elite Independent Schools in Globalising Feldstein, M. 62
Circumstances” team 71 Felouzis, G. 143
elitism 6, 13, 88, 90, 94; India 129–30, feminine identity/femininity 19, 92, 93, 165
131, 133, 135; Portugal 157–8, 160; finance, as employment destination 112,
Singapore 2, 74, 80 113, 116
Elliott, J. G. 124 finance capital 226
Eloy, F. 141 finance-scapes 8
emo-scapes 8, 12 finishing schools 179
emotions: and behaviour 89; as discursive Fisher, R. 87
89–90; see also affect flow(s) 9; cultural 36; of social science
employment destinations 101–3; and old knowledge 9–10
boy networks 12, 101, 111–12, 116–17 Forbes, J. 33, 39, 71, 75, 76, 124
employment opportunities, foreign languages 144, 188, 189, 192
internationalisation of 115 Forsey, M. 125
English medium of instruction 53, 123, Foucault, M. 91, 126, 135
124, 135 France 71; educational travel see Sciences
English, R. 33, 38, 39 Po-Paris; school choice 13, 147,
entitlement 175, 227; happiness as 87, 96 148–51, 152, 205
Epstein, D. 71 Freemasonry 115–16
ERASMUS programme 14, 188, 194, 200 Frey, B. 89
Esping-Andersen, G. 105
Estêvão, C. 160 Ganzeboom, H. 143
ethno-scapes 8 Garth, B. 189
Eton College, UK 108, 111, 116 Gaztambide-Fernández,R. 13, 18, 22, 51,
excellence 73, 74, 75, 78, 125; academic 53, 71, 90, 97, 122, 126, 129, 135,
175, 176–7, 178, 223 171, 202
exchange, in economy of eliteness 14–15, Gee, J. P. 72
221–2 Gehring, J. 59
exclusion 88, 92, 93–4, 97–8, 131, 133–4, gender 2, 10, 12, 73; conformity 93;
135 discrimination 167; identity 19;
exclusiveness 51, 129, 130, 132, 133, 135 institutional narratives of 87, 88, 92,
exploitation 220, 222, 226 93–4, 97; invisibility 164–6, 167; norms
extracurricular activities 71, 122, 132, 134, 92, 93, 94, 97; roles 30; see also
143, 163; see also hobbies and interests; feminine identity; masculinity
sport Gessaghi, V. 203, 208, 213
Giddens, A. 206
Fabiani, J.-L. 145 Gilbert, R. & Gilbert, P. 20, 22, 29
Fahey, J. 3–4, 7, 8, 19, 51, 71, 81, 88, Gintis, H. 71
122, 124, 130, 171, 202 Glasman, D. 143
Fairclough, N. 90 global capitalism 10, 220, 227, 228
240 Index
global citizenship 70, 76–7; see also Hayden, M. 53

cosmopolitanism Hayes, C. 54
global emo-scapes 8 Headmasters’ Conference (HMC) 104,
global labour market 115 106, 116
global nationalism 13 hegemonic masculinity 11, 20–3, 24, 94
global youth culture 45 Held, D. 102
globalisation 36, 71, 177, 189 Hellerman, P. von 5
Goh, C. T. 74 Henri-Panabière, G. 142
Goh, D. P. S. 82 Héran, F. 147
Goldthorpe, J. H. 144 Heredia, M. 203
Gombert, P. 142, 147 Herzfeld, M. 176–7, 180
goodness 90, 91 Hesketh, A. J. 126, 144
Goodson, I. 206 heteronormativity 92, 93–4, 97
Gopinathan, S. 75 Heward, C. 105
Gottschall, K. 88, 125 Heyward, M. 54
Grand Tour 14, 172, 174, 185n3, 188, highbrow culture 140–1, 144, 151–2,
190–3 153n2, 175
Grandes écoles 148, 150, 152, 153n3, Highgate School, UK 108, 116
200n4; see also Sciences Po–Paris Ho, E. 74
Green, F. 103, 104, 105, 114 Ho, L-C. 74
Greene, R. 20 hobbies and interests 41–2; and
Gregg, M. 224 competitiveness 41, 42; monitoring
Gross National Happiness (GNH) 89 of 41
Guardian, The (newspaper) 4 Hobsbawm, E. 185n2
Gunter, H. 9 Hofstetter, R. 176
Holland, D. 72, 73, 79
habitus 12, 71–2, 72–3; see also Honey, J. R. D. S. 22
institutional habitus Hong Kong 58, 117, 205
Hall, D. 9 Horne, J. 39
Hall, S. 5, 9 Horvat, E. 105
Hallinger, P. 53, 64 Howard, A. 1, 9, 71, 72, 73, 77, 79, 162,
Halpern, D. 113 202
Halpin, D. 87 Hughes, C. 133
Hannerz, U. 36, 42, 47, 70 Humair, C. 181
happiness 12, 88–90; commodification of human capital 74, 77, 113
89, 97; as discursive emotion 89–90, Hutchesson, R. 88, 125
97; global 89
happiness industry 89 identity: construction of 72–3; gender 19;
happiness narratives 12, 87, 90–8; global 70; privilege as 72, 77; see also
exclusionary aspect of 88, 97–8; school cultural identity; feminine identity;
as happy family 91–4; winning at sport masculinity
94–6 ideo-scapes 8
Happy Planet Index 89 impression management 88
hard work 30, 79, 82, 131, 222 Inci, E. 113
Harris, A. 87 income, distribution of 62; inequality 4,
Harrow School, UK 109 55, 62
Harvey, D. 4, 8 Indian caste system 10
Hay, I. 4 Indian education system 122, 135–6n1
Index 241
Indian elite schools 12–13; and colonialism Diploma Programme (IBDP) schools;
12–13, 123–5; international curricula Swiss boarding schools
50, 122, 125, 132, 133–4; and international students 19, 33; see also
neoliberalism 125, 132–3; and Chinese international students
postcolonial nationalism 13, 124; interpersonal competences 143–4
website discourse 12, 13, 122–3, investment 114, 142, 143, 224
125–35 (colonial excellence 127, 128,
129–30; international excellence 128, Jacquet-Francillon, F. 140
132–4; metropolitan excellence 128, Jarvis, C. 87
131–2 Jay, E. 205
Indian Public School Conference (IPSC) Jenkins, C. 59
131 Jenkins, H. 3, 51, 205
individualism 13, 161, 166, 168
inequality 13, 54, 55, 160, 202, 218, 219, Kaewmukda, D. 64
220, 228; Argentina 202; consumption Kakpo, S. 142
224; educational 7–8, 203; income 4, Kam, L. 23, 24, 27, 28, 29, 43
55; naturalisation of 166–7, 167–8; as Keeling, A. 53
relational process 203; wealth 55, 62, Kennedy, K. J. 75
218 Kenway, J. 3, 6, 7–8, 8, 9, 10, 12, 19, 33,
information, and school choice 145–7, 37, 51, 53, 54, 71, 81, 87, 88, 89, 117,
148–51 122, 124, 130, 161, 162, 171, 189, 202,
information processing skills 140 205
inheritors (of cultural capital) 13, 139, Kessler, G. 203
141, 152 Khan, S. R. 54, 71, 72, 122, 162, 175,
insiders/insider knowledge 13, 140, 202, 206, 219
145–51, 152 Khaopa, W. 64
institutional habitus 73; Ace Institution, Kieffer, A. 146
Singapore 12, 75–83 Kings School (Canterbury), UK 108, 115
intellectual ability 21, 22 Kirk, D. 94, 95
inter-cultural communication 44–5 Knowles, C. 93
inter-cultural understanding 11, 51, 54, Koh, A. 3, 8, 9, 10, 19, 33, 51, 53, 71, 74,
59, 60, 61, 62, 63–4, 134 77, 117, 122, 124, 161, 162, 189, 202
International Baccalaureate Diploma Kress, G. 91
Programme (IBDP) schools 11, 12, 71, Krippendorff, K. 107
76; Creativity, Action, Service (CAS) Krugman, P. 62
courses 11, 51, 60–1, 64, 65n2; India Kuriloff, P. 29
50, 122, 133–4; public (state) school
sector 64; and university entrance 50–1, labour market, global 115
59, 64; see also China, International Lachicotte, W. Jr. 72
Baccalaureate schools Lahire, B. 142
international capital see cosmopolitan Lapointe Guigoz, J. 181
capital; transnational capital Lareau, A. 79, 105, 144, 145
International General Certificate of Lau, S. S. Y. 64
Secondary Education (IGCSE) 123–4, Lauder, H. 115
125, 132 Laurens, S. 178
International School of Beijing 53 Laval, C. 224
international schooling sector: China 53; law, as employment destination 102, 103,
see also International Baccalaureate 111, 112, 113, 116
242 Index
Le Pape, M.-C. 142 masculinity 19, 165; Asian/Chinese see

leadership 39, 70, 95 Asian/Chinese masculinity; and
learning, collective 29 competitiveness 24, 25; and cultural
Lee, A. 91 background 23; hegemonic 11, 20–3,
Lee, J. 47 24, 94; and sport 24–5, 42, 43, 94;
Lee, M. 50, 51, 52, 53, 56, 57, 59, 61, 64 teacher’s role in formation of 22; and
Leeuwen, T. van 91 toughness 24, 25, 42
Lefebvre, H. 5 mass culture 140
Lenoir, R. 180 Masse, B. 195
LeTendre, G. K. 146 Massey, D. 7
Levin, H. 160 Masy, J. 152
liberal education 53 materiality 2
liberalism 220 Matthews, J. 33
life skills 38–9 Maurer, S. 193, 194
Light, R. 94, 95 Maxwell, C. 2, 3, 9, 202
Lim, L. 74 Maxwell, J. D. & Maxwell, M. P. 124
Lin, J. 52 May, J. 6
Lingard, B. 39, 71, 75, 76, 124, 125 Mayer, A. 64
linguistic capital 141 Mayes, R. 94
Little, A. W. 123 Mazzarella, W. 34–5
Little, J. 94 Mead, W. E. 191, 192
Loh, C. E. 76 Meadmore, D. & Meadmore, P. 71, 125,
Longhurst, B. 27 132, 134
Lorimer, H. 89 media and arts, as employment destination
Louie, K. see Kam, L. 112, 116
loyalty 91, 92 media-scapes 8
Luke, A. 23, 63 mediation, and cultural identity 34–5
Lukes, S. 104, 113 mediation/power duality 35, 37
Lynch, K. 124 medicine, as employment destination 102,
111–12, 113, 116
Mac an Ghail, M. 22 Méndez, A. 208, 213
Macaulay, T. B., Lord 123 merit 14
McCarthy, C. 9 meritocracy 63, 64, 83, 113, 115, 123,
McDonough, P. M. 144 124, 175, 222, 224, 225; Singapore 2,
Macedo, E. 160, 161, 165, 166 72, 74, 77–80, 82–3
Machin, S. 103 Messerschmidt, J. W. 30
McIntosh, P. 72, 73 Mills, C. W. 54
Majumdar, M. 123 Mingat, A. 146
Malvern College, UK 109 mobilities 8, 11, 36, 144, 188, 189–90
Marcus, G. E. 180 modernisation: Argentina 209–10;
marginalisation 88, 202 Portugal 157
Marginson, S. 57 Monkman, K. 125
marketing 14, 96, 178–9 Mooij, J. 123
marketisation 13, 51–2, 54–5, 65, 88, 90 moral economy of class 222
Marlborough College, UK 108, 114 moral education, Argentina 208
Maroy, C. 141 Moran, M. 124
Martínez, M. E. 207 Mullen, A. L. 124, 161
Martino, W. 24 multilingualism see foreign languages
Index 243
multinationals in education 177, 178, oppression and privilege, intersection of

185n8 158, 161–8
Murphy, R. 103 Other 5, 82, 166–7, 168
Murphy-Lejeune, E. 144 Oundle School, UK 109
Murray, W. E. 3 overseas enrichment programmes 71,
music 22, 141 81–2, 83, 131
Muxel, A. 193, 194
parental influence/investment 142, 143,
Narodowski, M. 224 152
Nash, R. 105 parentocracy 152
nation-state 36 Pareto, V. 205
National Child Development Study Parker, S. 113
(NCDS) (UK) 103 Parkin, F. 206, 214n8
national culture 36 Pasquier, D. 141, 142
national perspectives 8 Passeron, J. 71, 79, 139, 148
nationalism 13 Pattieu, S. 189, 191
neo-colonialism 9, 124 Pearce, R. 54, 63–4
neoliberalism 9, 87, 95, 132, 220, 222–3, peers: cultural influence of 142, 143;
224; Argentina 225; and Indian elite recognition from 29; support from
schools 125, 132–3; Portugal 13, 160 28–9
Ng, V. 53 People’s Action Party (PAP), Singapore 3
Nguyen, P. M. 124 peregrinatio academica 14, 188, 190
Nogueira, C. 164 performativity 13, 163–4, 167, 168
nonrepresentational theory 12, 89 Perrenoud, P. 162
Nord Anglia 177, 185n8 Perroton, J. 143
Nóvoa, A. 157 Persell, C. H. 20, 22, 23, 206
Nylander, E. 71 Pestalozzi, J. H. 176, 185n5
Peterson, R. A. 140
Oberti, M. 148 physical ability 22
Occupy Wall Street movement 4 physical capital 33
OECD 4, 52 Piketty, T. 62
O’Flynn, G. 47 Pilot, A. 124
O’Halloran, K. L. 91 Pimenta, C. 160
old boy networks 12, 101, 104, 105–17; Pinçon, M. 206
and employment destinations 12, 101, Pinçon-Charlot, M. 206
111–12, 116–17; international Pini, B. 94
dimension of 12, 114–16, 117; and job place 8, 11; progressive sense of 7; and
application process 113; maintenance of space distinction 6–7
114; and positions of power 12, 104, place-making 7
105; services provided by 112–13; size Platter, F. & Platter, T. 190
of 111 Polimeno, A. 1
Olds, K. 74 politics, as employment destination 102
oligarchies 224 politics of privilege 2, 3
Oller, A.-C. 143 popular culture 140
Ong, A. 8, 34, 35, 47, 70, 225 Portugal: commodification of educational
open-mindedness 11, 51, 57, 61–2, 62, services 157, 158; education system
63–4 160–1; liberalisation 157, 158;
openness 175; cultural 188, 196 modernisation 157; and neoliberalism 13,
244 Index
160; privatisation of education 157–8, Ramesh, S. 77

159–60, 161; school choice 157, 160 Ranger, T. O. 185n2
Portuguese elite schools 13, 157–70; reading 141, 143, 152
historical overview 159–61; privilege Réau, B. 189, 194, 200n1
and oppression, intersection of 158, Reay, D. 75
161–8; research context 158–9 Reich, R. B. 70
positioning 163–4 Reichert, M. C. 29
positive psychology 89, 91 religious education, Argentina 207
poverty 62, 202; Argentina 203 Renolds, M. 19
Power, S. 87, 146 Repton School, UK 109
power 203, 205; concentration of 218, 224; Resnik, J. 70, 77, 82, 134, 209
and old boy networks 12, 104, 105 Ridley, J. 116
power regimes 35, 47 Rizvi, F. 5, 33, 42, 71, 122, 124, 130,
power/knowledge 9–10 135, 185n4
Prasad, A. 123 Robertson, S. 10
prestige 14, 53 Robinson, K. 92
Prieur, A. 140, 144 Roche, D. 189, 192, 200n2
privatisation: Argentina 203–4; Portugal Rock, D. 221
157–8, 159–60, 161 Rose, N. 89, 97
privilege 1–5, 6, 7–8, 9, 13, 14, 15, 73, Round Square schools 125, 129, 130, 136n5
77, 82, 87, 88; and agency 2; blindness/ rugby 94
inattention to to 79, 82; and Rugby School, UK 109
colonialism 12–13; discourse of, elite Ryan, G. 107
Indian school websites 125–34; as
identity 72, 77; multiple geographies of St Andrew’s School (Perth), Australia
10; and oppression, Portuguese elite 10–11, 18, 19–23, 28
schools 158, 161–8; politics of 2, 3; St Edwards School, UK 110
spatiality of 2 St Paul’s School, UK 108, 114, 117, 175
problem-solving skills 140 Saltmarsh, S. 87, 88, 125
production, concealment of 220, 226 Sandel, M. 51–2, 54–5, 62, 65
progressiveness 75, 131–2, 135 Santiago, R. 160, 161
promotional websites see school websites Santos, B. S. 161
property management, as employment Savage, M. 140, 144, 219
destination 112, 116–17 Sayad, A. 199
Prosser, H. 3–4, 6 scale 3, 4–5, 8
Public School Lodges’ Council 116 scapes 8
public (state) school sector 88, 102; Schneider, C. 116
Argentina 210–12, 213; and Schön, D. 141
international bacclaureate 64 school choice 160, 205, 227; Argentina
Putnam, R. 104 14, 203, 204, 205–16; and economic
capital 148; France 13, 147, 148–51,
Qian, H. 54 152, 205; and insider knowledge 13,
Quaresma, M. L. 159, 160 145–51, 152; Portugal 157
school fees 55; China 54, 56, 58–9, 63
race 2, 10, 73; institutional narratives of school websites 5; discourse see happiness
87, 88 narratives; Indian elite schools, website
Radley College, UK 109 discourse; semiotic elements of 5, 12,
Raffles Institution, Singapore 2 88, 90, 91, 94
Index 245
school-linking 148 social inheritance 165, 167

Sciences Po-Paris, educational travel 14, social justice/injustice 63, 81, 82, 160, 227
188, 193–9 social networks 104, 146, 147–8; see also
Scott, J. 104, 105, 114 old boy networks; social capital
segregated space 205 social responsibility 166
self: cultured sense of 35; and the Other 5 social status 14, 87, 97, 98, 192, 224
self-assertion 167 socialisation 143, 144; and school choice,
self-care 38, 39 Argentina 203, 206, 207, 208, 210,
self-confidence 22 211–12
Selwyn, N. 126 socialising 12, 39, 43–4
semiotic elements of school websites 5, 12, soft skills 143–4
88, 90, 91, 94 space 2, 3, 5–6, 8, 9; and place distinction
Seoane, V. 207 6–7; segregated 205; territorial notions
service: engagement in 76, 77, 80–2; see also of 93–4; see also virtual spaces
Creativity, Action, Service (CAS) courses Spivak, G. C. 123
Seth, S. 123 sport 22; Chinese international students
sexuality, institutional narratives of 87, 92, participation in 24–5, 39–41, 42, 43;
93–4, 97 exclusion from, Chinese international
Shaw, M. 4, 6 students 39–40, 41; local/overseas
Sheller, M. 26, 27 hierarchy in 40–1; and masculinity
Sherbourne School, UK 108 24–5, 42, 43, 94; Old Boy teams 116;
Shilling, C. 47 as socializing arena 39; winning at 94–6
Shrewsbury School, UK 110 Srivastava, S. 122, 124, 125, 130, 135
Sibley, D. 92 state schools see public (state) school sector
Sidhu, R. 33 status see social status
Sim, J. B. Y. 82 status groups 206
Singapore 2, 3, 51; class 74; Stich, A. 203
cosmopolitan—heartlander terminology Stiglitz, J. 62
74–5; economic competitiveness 74; Stoer, S. R. 147, 159
elitism 2, 74, 80; meritocracy concept Storper, M. 224
in 2, 72, 74, 77–80, 82; People’s Action Stowe School, UK 110
Party (PAP) 3; social context of Stradling, S. 26
schooling in 74–5; see also Ace Straits Times (newspaper) 2
Institution, Singapore Stratton, G. 81
Skeggs, B. 222, 225, 227 Stromquist, N. P. 125
Skinner, D. 72 structure, and agency 72
Skinner, J. 25 Stuber, J. M. 79
Sklair, L. 54 Stutzer, A. 88, 89
Skrbiš, Z. 36 Sutton Trust 102, 103, 103–4, 112, 114
skyboxification 11, 51–2, 54–5, 56, Svampa, M. 203
59–61, 62–3, 64, 65 Swiss boarding schools: and academic
soccer 25 excellence 176–7; and alternative
social autism 166–7, 168 pedagogies 176–7; cosmopolitan image
social capital 12, 14, 33, 72, 104, 111, 174, 184–5; and dialectics of business and
117, 123, 124, 143, 145, 147, 152, 189, education 177–8; as elite schools 171–2;
190, 200, 203, 210, 219 and international pedagogies 177–8;
social closure 206, 212, 214n8 symbolic capital 13–14, 178–87 (family
social fragmentation, Argentina 202–3 ideology 178–80; international relations
246 Index
as worldview 182–3; national image of schools 117; old boy networks see old
176, 183–4; schools as local economic boy networks; as university destination
actors 180–1; territorial identification for IDBP graduates 57
14, 174, 181–2, 184) United States of America (USA) 3, 71,
symbolic capital 41, 72, 124, 131, 132, 189; 124, 205; international baccalaureate
Swiss boarding schools 13–14, 178–87 schools 64; as university destination for
symbolic capital of recognition 173–5 IDBP graduates 57
symbolic violence 41, 162, 227 universities, foreign, opportunities to study
Symes, C. 87, 88 in see ERASMUS programme;
peregrinatio academica; Sciences Po-Paris
talent 70, 79 University College School, UK 108
Tan, J. 74, 82 university entrance 55, 163–4; and
Tan, K. P. 74 International Baccalaureate schools
Tarc, P. 59, 134 50–1, 56, 57–8, 59, 60, 63, 64; legacy
Tavares, O. 160 admission 55; and Swiss boarding
Taylor, C. 79 schools 175
teachers: cultural evolution of 141; insider Uppingham School, UK 110
knowledge 147; qualities required of
20–2; social networks 147–8 Valentine, G. 92
techno-scapes 8 value, in economy of eliteness 222–3, 227
Teng, A. 2 values 207
Terlouw, C. 124 Van Zanten, A. 9, 132, 142, 143, 144,
territorial identification, Swiss boarding 146, 147, 161, 212
schools 14, 174, 181–2, 184 Veleda, C. 203, 204, 205
Thailand 64 Villa, A. 207
Thompson, E. P. 220 Vincent, C. 146
Thompson, J. 53 Vincent, S. 142, 143
Threadgold, T. 91 virtual spaces 5, 12–13; see also school
Thrift, N. 6, 74, 89 websites
Tiberj, V. 193, 194
time 2 Wacquant, L. 72
time-management 39 Wagner, A.-C. 144, 174, 178, 189, 195,
time/space 6 200n1, 200
Tiramonti, G. 203, 205, 221 Walford, G. 18, 102, 104, 105, 106, 125
Tissot, L. 181, 186n11 Walker, A. 53, 54, 61, 64
Tonbridge School, UK 108 Walker, L. 26
toughness, and masculinity 24, 25, 42 Walkerdine, V. 92, 126
tradition 75; origins of 206; and school Walter, F. 186n13
choice, Argentina 205–12 Wang, A. 24
transactional activity 63 Wang, J. 64
transnational capital 53, 189, 193–200 Warde, A. 47
travel see educational travel Wardman, N. 88, 93, 125
Treanor, J. 4 Waters, J. 5, 33, 71, 124, 125, 205
tuition fees 55, 58; China 56, 58 wealth 4, 227; distribution of 62;
inequality 55, 62, 218
United Kingdom (UK) 51, 124; Weber, M. 175, 206
employment destinations 12, 101–3, websites see school websites
111–12, 116–17; international influence Weenink, D. 33, 46, 81
Index 247
Weiner, G. 33, 39 Wright, E. 51, 52, 59

Weininger, E. 105, 144, 145 Wright, E. O. 219
Weis, L. 3, 51, 124, 205 Wu, X. 52
well-roundedness ethos 11, 33–4, 93, 223; Wylde, C. 225
Chinese international students cultural
mediation of 37, 39–47; and Xie, Y. 62
co-curricular programs 37, 38, 39–47;
teachers’ construction of 37–9 Ye, R. 71
Wellington College, UK 110 Yell, S. 91
wen—wu Asian masculinity 11, 23–30, 43 Yin, R. K. 73
Westminster School, UK 108 Youdell, D. 12, 87, 88
Whannel, G. 24 Young, I. 162
Wheeler, B. 1 Young, M. 225
Whitty, G. 87, 205 youth culture 45, 141
Willis, P. 19, 29
Winchester College, UK 110 Zhang, H. 52
Windle, J. 81, 205 Zhao, Y. 52–3
winning, and happiness 94–6, 97 Zhou, X. 62
Wood, Sir C. 123, 136n3 Zhu, Y. 103
Woodward, I. 36 Ziegler, S. 203, 205, 221
work: and economic independence 165–6;
hard 30, 79, 82, 131, 222; see also
careers; employment destinations

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ELITE SCHOOLS

Aaron Koh is Associate Professor of Literacy and English Education at Griffith

Jane Kenway is Professorial Fellow with the Australian Research Council,

Social Class and Education

Confucius and Crisis in American Universities

Globalizing Educational Accountabilities

Edited by Aaron Koh and Jane Kenway

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

ISBN: 978-1-138-77940-2 (hbk)

Series Editor’s Overviewix

Introduction: Reading the Dynamics of Educational Privilege

1 Becoming the Man: Redefining Asian Masculinity in an

2 Capitalising on Well-Roundedness: Chinese Students’

3 The Emergence of Elite International Baccalaureate

4 Elite Schoolboys Becoming Global Citizens: Examining

5 The Joy of Privilege: Elite Private School Online

6 Old Boy Networks: The Relationship Between Elite

7 Exclusive Consumers: The Discourse of Privilege in Elite

8 The Insiders: Changing Forms of Reproduction

9 Can Geographies of Privilege and Oppression Combine?:

10 “We Are Not Elite Schools”: Studying the Symbolic

11 Tourism, Educational Travel, and Transnational Capital:

12 Schools and Families: School Choice and Formation of

13 The Economy of Eliteness: Consuming Educational

The series on Education in Global Context takes seriously the transnational

Aaron Koh and Jane Kenway

Studying multiple schools in multiple countries that share a common status

As this intimates, elite schools operate within local/neighbourhood, national and

is the outcome of series of highly problematic temporary settlements that

His notion of “temporary settlements” highlights the links between geography

The educational and social segregation involved in their [the students’]

schools can be thought of as ‘purified spaces ... cleansed of variety and

Our notion of multiple geographies of privilege helps to capture the intersectional

such unevenness is expressed is nationally according to capitalism’s particular

Geographical Inter-Sectionalities, Multiplicities, and Mobilities

Yeo argues that in response to the ‘hegemonic masculinity’ observed in St

Loh explains that Ace created history in Singapore’s education system by

national] symbolic capital of recognition”, these expensive boarding schools

Massey, D. (1993). ‘Power-geometry’ and a progressive sense of place. In J. Bird, B.

Wee Loon Yeo

Hegemonic Masculinity: The St Andrew’s School Man

the task of ensuring that the residential experience of a St Andrew’s School

Matt graduated from the University of Queensland with a Bachelor’s

An accomplished hockey player, Matt competed in State level competitions.

In another example, talent of a different nature is described:

Having a keen interest in music, Stephen teaches piano lessons on the

The inclusion of this information is interesting because of the various connotations,

The Wen–Wu of Asian Boarders’ Masculinity

The Asian Warrior

Skinner, 2003). Connell (1990) emphasised the qualities of “toughness and

Reflecting on this dialogue with Tin, he maintained a strong emotional

performance. However, sheer horsepower and electrifying livery were not

The Asian Scholar

I was a mediocre student in my school in Singapore. So I know how it feels

Ken’s thoughts were similar to Tin’s revelation as to why he enjoyed playing

Renolds, M. (2004) ‘Other’ boys: Negotiating non-hegemonic masculinities in the

cultural capital. I want to explore how well well-roundedness travels among

In Mazzarella’s thesis, an individual’s cultural identity process needs the third

Mediation is the process by which the self recognizes itself by returning to

Mazzarella’s notion of mediation is a useful tool for me to use to analyse Chinese

Engaging with the Cultural Cosmopolitan Theses

cosmopolitanism or cosmopolitan identity “continues to escape easy definition”

Teachers’ Construction of the Well-Roundedness Ethos

Apart from being a high-fee independent school, Beachton Grammar’s index

Series Editor’s Overviewix